Rebellion
by GroovyKat
Summary: Princess doesn't handle it at all well when Mark is forced to break off their relationship. This is a complete rewrite to the original piece I wrote back at the turn of the century...
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, back in the year 2000, I wrote my first fanfic. It was a stumbled effort that ended up so convoluted and messy that I'm surprised I was so willing to share it. Of course I did, and it was received fairly well … Wha?

The premise was simple enough: Mark and Princess broke up, she rebelled in reaction … Great! Then something happened and I fell into a pit of too many ideas and … yeah … messy.

So then, back in around 2006 I figured I'd give the fic another go and assess how my style had changed over the years. (And TBCH I hated that damn fic with everything inside me. I'm honestly quite embarrassed over it).

This is what I managed to come up with on my second time around. I will warn thee that this is a work in progress. The crux of it is done, I just need to seal off a few loose ends and make this final.

Warning: If you have problems with an absolutely and totally OOC Swan, then move no further. This fic is pretty much ALL about Princess losing control of herself and becoming something she isn't. She starts and ends as we know her, but that middle bit … :tilts head: ahhh. Honestly, if you're one of those people who think that the Condor smoking a cigarette is so completely abhorrent that it should be deemed a criminal act, then I dare say you won't like what our pretty little swan is about to get up to.

She will be bad. Mark will be livid. That's what Rebellion and rebelling is all about…

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Oh I get so sick of typing these. At this present moment in time I can assure all that I do not own Battle of the Planets. One day my lotto number might come up and I can attempt to negotiate something delicious, but as it stands right now – they're all Sandy Franks' …

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

**REBELLION**

The Retake

It began in the Eastern California Sheer Zone; a rumble that sent the needles of the U.S. Geographical Centre's seismographs flying erratically over spools of paper. It measured 8.5 at its peak, and was felt across the state of California into the waters of the Pacific Ocean.

Tiny, Princess, Keyop, Mark and Jason's heads shot up to the ceiling as the recreation room they were all playing in suddenly began to shake violently. There was a small electrical zap from the power box beside Tiny's head, and the entire room went dark.

"Relax, team," Mark called as the red glow of emergency lighting slowly warmed up to give them a clouded view of what was in front of them. "Zark, what was that?"

The team watch-dog, based at a Research centre 1000 miles away, answered quickly. "Earthquake, Commander. I'm doing a scan of Centre Neptune to see if there is any damage."

"God dammit," Jason hissed as Princess fell into him with an aftershock. "If it isn't Spectra attacking, it's the Earth itself."

Princess steadied herself with help from Jason's arms around her waist to help her stand. "One of these days this whole place is just going to implode with these quakes."

"Don't say that, Sis," Keyop pouted as he picked himself up off the floor.

"Are you okay, Keyop?" She asked in response as she rushed to check him for any bruises. He curled a lip and brushed her away from him with a mutter about being a big boy now. She pursed her lips and appeared hurt by that. "Sorry, Key."

Mark tapped his foot on the wood-panel flooring as he waited for the release of the room's door to let them all out. "Tiny, how're you doing?"

"Picking pieces of lettuce off me now, Commander. Casualties, three Space burgers."

"Mark," Jason interrupted, "This is a movable base, man…Why the hell don't we just move it somewhere else?"

"Ask the Chief."

An alarm sounded over the base PA system as the lights came back on.

_"All Dry Dock hangar personnel are required to the Phoenix immediately. Code Blue, Code Blue."  
_  
Tiny let out a long, "no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o," and pushed past Mark on his way out of the door. The team looked at each other with wide, confused, eyes, then took off after him.

"What the Hell is a 'code blue', Mark?" Jason asked in a yell as they rounded the corner to the main dock windows. He saw the answer to his question and let out a horrified, "fuck, no."

The Phoenix had fallen from its cradle and was lilted dangerously to one side on a broken set of wheels. There was a team of technicians frantically trying to board her to attempt to right her. At the doors, several of the facility's crew was battling against incoming ocean waters trying to weld together a large crack in the metal where the cradle's main gripper had fallen.

"Not my baby!" Tiny yelled as he attempted to pry open the security doors to the hangar. "Let me in you Bastards! Don't you do any more damage!""

Jason looked to Mark and received a nod from his Commander to settle the big guy down. He gave a grin and made a move to 'silence' Tiny in a way he deemed appropriate, but was intercepted by Princess. She put an arm around the frantic pilot and waggled a finger of disapproval at Jason.

"Don't worry about her, Tiny. These people know what they're doing."

"I have to get in there, Prin."

"Let them do their thing. Come on. Let's you and me go and get you a couple of really big and juicy Space burgers. Mark and Jason will make sure that they treat your girl like a lady." She guided his reluctant self towards the doorway.

Mark touched her hand as she passed and gave her a weak smile. "Thank you, Princess." She smiled back at him, and then refocused her attention on Tiny. Mark watched her leave and let out a breath of admiration. "Thank God we have her."

Jason raised a brow, but agreed. "I'm with you on that, Mark." He pointed his attention back at the hangar, "what are we going to do about that, Man?"

A low and authoritative voice behind them answered his question. "You'll do nothing." Chief Anderson found a position between Keyop and Jason and put one hand in his pocket. "That hangar isn't going to hold and we can't evacuate it."

"WHAT?" a chorus of three voices answered.

"You have to get them out of there," Mark demanded as his eyes locked on the growing hole in the outside hangar door. "The whole lot of them will drown."

"The Phoenix technical teams have boarded the ship already. Her airlocks are in working order so they'll fly her to the surface."

"And the rest of them?" Jason asked, his eyes wide.

Anderson sighed and lowered his head. "There's nothing we can do to help them. Right now, we have to prepare for impact when those doors give."

"This is bullshit," Mark hissed hotly, then rounded his arm in the 'transmute' sequence. When the change took hold, and his two team mates had done the same, he looked at the Condor and pointed at the door. "Get it open, Jason!"

"Don't do it, Jason." Anderson demanded. "You'll kill us all."

Mark ignored Anderson and yelled again. "Jason, that's an order!"

"Big Ten, Skipper," he responded with an insubordinate look at the chief. He removed his gun from its holster and attached a drill piece to it. As he crouched at the base of the door, the entire base shook again. He stumbled backward then leapt to his feet to join Mark at the window.

The three birds each yelled out in disbelief and horror as the doors finally buckled and pulled free of their hinges, then exploded inward with a rush of cold, angry water. They all looked away with a wince when the sight became too much for them.

"It would have been a quick death, Commander," the Chief finally offered when the base stopped shaking.

Mark looked up at him with teary red eyes. "This is insane, Chief. They didn't need to die. You had plenty of time to get all of them into the Phoenix."

He shook his head, "they had to try to salvage the equipment, Mark."

"Since when did equipment become more important than lives?" Jason asked as he attempted to console Keyop who was sobbing into his wing. "These damn quakes have been rocking this base for months, surely you knew something like this was going to happen eventually."

Chief Anderson shook his head and let out a long sigh. "This is why we're moving this entire base over the next few months."

Mark, Jason and Keyop looked up at him with curious gazes. Keyop was the one to ask the question. "Moving? Where?"

The chief turned his back to them all and walked down the hallway. He called a two-word answer to them over his shoulder. "Toronto, Canada."

Three months later…

Princess pursed her lips and pouted at the computer screen in front of her. Four hours of continual unpacking in her new condominium in Downtown Toronto had left her brain muddled and incapable of coherent and intelligent thought. This meant that her connection to the Centre Neptune network was being as difficult as Keyop when she insisted it was time to put away the Nintendo and get some sleep.

Keyop … He didn't want to move in with her. Apparently he was a big boy now and capable of staying in an apartment all by himself. This would be the first time that she would be living completely alone.

It was a frightening thought.

Her computer beeped in annoyance at her inability to program it right, which caused her to humph in frustration. She blew at an errant curl of hair that had picked this inopportune time to fall in front of her eyes. She was thankful when her bracelet picked that exact moment to chime.

"G3," she answered probably a little more enthusiastically that she wanted.

There was a deep chuckle. "Are you looking for an excuse to escape, Princess?"

She blushed and was thankful that he couldn't see it. "I've lost all of my intelligence, Mark. I can't even figure out how to connect my computer to the network." She sighed, "I think I might have even forgotten how to transmute into birdstyle."

"Do you want me to come over and help?"

She was silent for a moment and answered slowly when apprehension knocked. "Is that okay?"

He let out a laugh, "I wouldn't offer if it wasn't. It would appear that we're neighbours so you aren't out of my way."

"Neighbours?" she asked almost nervously as she looked at the wall and wondered just how thin they really were.

"Mm-hmm," he hummed with what she imagined was a teasing smile. "I'm two floors up from you. I guess the Chief wanted me to keep an eye on you during our off-hours."

She could hear him moving around as he spoke and panicked that he was only seconds from her door. She had no time to fix herself up for him. "Maybe," she answered with a slight stutter, "it's the other way around, Mark. Maybe he's making sure that I keep an eye on you to make certain no sleazy women make it up to your apartment."

There was a knock on her door. "Then maybe he should have had us living together."

She was thankful that he was at her door and that she didn't need to respond to that. She took a long breath to psych herself into opening the door for him. She gave him a smile, hugged him, and then presented her messy apartment to him. "Accueillir à La maison du cygne," she said with a smile. Upon noticing the clutter, she frowned. "Excuse the mess, I'm still working on putting everything away."

Mark smiled and stepped through the doorway. "Nice to see you're already picking up the second language, Prin."

She shrugged, "the Chief insisted. He's had me in French Immersion classes since the Federation decided to move us here." She tilted herself in a typically coy – yet innocent – manner. "It would seem that I am the liaison between the English and French officials."

Mark frowned and turned his head to her. "Since when do we get involved in the political stuff?"

She gave him a smile and a shrug as she swept her arm upwards in a manner to suggest he follow her. "Who even knows anymore? Come on through here, the computer is in my bedroom."

Mark took a step forward, then paused. "Bedroom?" His eyes flicked to another room to the left side of the apartment. "But you have a study."

She shook her head, her eyes glinting. "No, that's a spare bedroom. You know, in case Keyop wants to stay over … or move in."

Mark could hear the hopeful tone in her voice and touched his fingers gently to her cheek. "This must be really hard for you, Princess. You and Keyop have been together forever."

She blinked slowly, pursed her lips, and looked up at him. She shook her head with a smile. "I'm free now, Mark. I can do what I want now." She took a step backward, then turned quickly. "Maybe even get myself a boyfriend."

Mark was rooted to the floor. It wasn't so much the 'boyfriend' remark that had surprised him; he'd barely even heard it. What had caught his attention was her sudden flippant demeanour. Her turn had caught him more than anything, not for its grace or the smoothness of her movements, but for the flick of thin bangs of ebony curls on her pale ivory neck. He whimpered when he caught a glimpse of the skin of the small of her back, where the t-shirt she was wearing lifted as she bent over to pick up a computer cable – likely the culprit that was preventing her access form the network.

"Did Jason give you that?" he said with a clearing of the throat.

She looked down at the blue t-shirt she was wearing. It had red sleeves and big yellow two on the front, and was at least a two sizes too big for her. "Oh," she chuckled as she pulled down on it nervously. "He was going to throw it out so I snagged it."

He raised his brows and pursed his lips in an 'o' shape. "I see."

"What? Did you think this was a boyfriend thing? A gift after he got me in bed?"

Even though she spoke inside a smile, Mark still blushed. "No, of course not. I'd never think that… " His head rose quickly at the implication. "You and Jason?"

Her eyes widened as her hands rose to cover her mouth in embarrassment of the question. "Oh, no. No. He stretched it in a tug of war with Keyop over who could sit in the La-Z-Boy in the rec room." She ran her hands down the front of it. "I find it really comfortable to laze around in." She did a quick twirl, "And besides, it goes great with these pants."

Mark cleared his throat again when he stepped into her bedroom. He was not surprised to see everything here was in its place and very tidy. His eyes shifted to her tight work-out pants. "Maybe I could give you one of mine, too."

She looked at him in surprise, and then blushed when she saw his gaze was below her waist. "You'd give me one?"

His eyes shot up to her face, "you only need to ask." He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. "I'm pretty sure I have a couple of old ones you can sleep in."

She held out her hand and gave him a playful, teasing smile. "Can I have your shirt?"

"This one?"

"Just kidding, Mark." She took his hand and pulled him towards her to assess her computer problem. His chest collided with her shoulder as she innocently looked down at the monitor. "I keep getting that damn message. My passwords aren't working, and there's a communication error." She turned her head to look at him and was stunned to find him staring at her mouth. "Mark?" she asked cautiously as she dipped her head to let her eyes meet with his.

His eyes caught hers, then dropped quickly again to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Princess. Forgive me."

She watched the very tip of his tongue brush across his lower lip. "What for?"

His hand rose to her face, and he drew his fingers along her cheek. "For this."

Her breath caught as his lips collided with hers in a hurried, frantic kiss. She stared at his face with wide eyes as his mouth opened with hers and he deepened their kiss. It was a moment she'd imagined for much of her young life; an image created with the aid of many Mills & Boon romance novels: Her Commander, holding her in his strong arms, protective and passionate, kissing her deeply in a moment of lost control and heated passion. Next, he would lift her up in his arms, tell her in a deep and lust laden voice that he loved her, and always had, and how much of a fool he had been to have taken so long to tell her. Then he'd take her to her bed, cover her with soft-feathered kisses as he gently made love to her. He'd know she was still untouched and innocent, that she'd kept herself for him, and would be gentle and caring.

The image in her mind dissipated when she felt an arm slide heavily around her waist and he pulled her tight against him. The oddity that shook the romance from her mind was a hard object pressing into her hip. She pulled back from him and looked downward, gasping in embarrassment when she realized what the 'lump' was.

Mark pressed his lips against her forehead and breathed out an apology. "I'm sorry, Princess. I shouldn't have done that." He kissed her hair and tried to pull away. It seemed clear to her that the one thing that had taken her attention off the kiss, he hadn't yet noticed.

Princess held firm, her eyes still on his jeans. "You're sorry?" She raised her head and gave him her most soulful look. "Please don't be sorry."

He threaded his fingers into her hair and stroked her temple with his thumb. "Do you want this?"

"Yes."

"Not just for now, Princess," he warned. "If you let me take you now, I'm not going to let you go."

"Yes, I want this."

He gave her a nod and claimed her mouth again. This time he pulled her against him and lifted her only enough to let him guide them to her bed.

Twelve Months of Bliss...

Mark found her lying on her stomach upon a blue picnic blanket. Her chin was cradled in her hands and she was propped up on her elbows watching the array of military jets flying noisily overhead. He let his eyes scan over the curves of her back and behind. She was out of her assigned civilian uniform, and the blue denim capri pants she'd chosen instead hugged her body like a lover. There couldn't have been a man on the grasses of the lakeshore that didn't envy those pants, and how tightly they held themselves against her.

His stealth was unnecessary with the roar of jet engines, but he chose to move silently toward her. She was entranced by the display; she wouldn't realize he was upon her.

She bent her legs at the knee and crossed her ankles in the air to let the sun and warm breeze kiss at her bare feet. She felt a kiss of another kind on her ankle and giggled as she turned her head to see her Commander with her foot cradled gently in his hand with his lips grazing at her ankle.

"He magically appears," she breathed as she rolled onto her back and pulled him down over her. "I didn't think you'd actually make it."

"I've been wanting to do this all day," he growled as his mouth found hers. He kissed her aggressively then pulled back and gazed down at her from above. "I hate emergency call-ins."

"Zark just knows exactly when to call, doesn't he?"

Mark rolled his eyes, and lay himself beside her. "Next time, I'll just tell him 'If it isn't Spectra, I'm not getting out of bed'."

"What was it?"

He groaned and rolled onto his side, propping his upper body up on his elbow with his head in his hand. "Debriefing crisis. The US President didn't understand Jason's report."

Princess rolled back onto her stomach and assumed the position she was in before Mark arrived. "What was there to misunderstand? Jase isn't exactly technical when he does his reports."

"I think it was the scribble in the margin that said 'nuke em all and let God sort 'em out' that upset him. It was a report on the new missile testing in the Pacific." He watched her mouth open wide in understanding and continued. "Jason isn't too happy with the location for the testing, nor the missiles themselves."

"So they're scrapping them?"

Mark shook his head. "The President is complaining that if we pull the plug, they lose a lot of money. So, that being the case, Jason wants to rope you into helping him tell them how to create the ultimate weapon."

She giggled, " and how do you feel about that?"

Mark pursed his lips. "As your Commander, I say no. There's no reason for us to toy with anything stronger than we already have, as I feel it would cause unnecessary civilian casualties. As Mark, heck, I think you and Jason would make an awesome weapon and would love to see what the two of you could come up with."

"Ahhh the Schizophrenic response."

"Don't be smart," he warned playfully as his head rose to see the Phoenix in a roll above their heads, flanked by a couple of F-18 jets. "Tiny just gets more and more in control of that bird, doesn't he?"

"He's always had control of her. She's his baby."

Mark nodded and purred when the Phoenix's afterburners suddenly fired and the large ship streaked away from the cheering crowd amidst a sonic boom and roaring engines. "God, I love that sound." He smiled and looked back at her. "How many G's do you think?"

"Last time he did that, he clocked 10 G's. The burners have been modified, so he might have pushed it to 12 or 13."

"And he passes out at?"

Princess giggled. "Without the G-Force Birdstyle, at eight. With it on, he has yet to pass out on the Base centrifuge."

He shrugged, "I wish the same could be said about the Spectran ones."

"The pull of gravity is different on each planet, Mark. We can't train for and plan against forces we don't understand."

He looked at her, silent for a moment. She had that challenging glint in her eye that warned him she was ready and willing to engage him in a scientific debate in which she would be the victor. He took the safe route and shifted closer to her. "Do we really have to talk shop, Princess? I've already had five hours of meetings and playing nice for the directors." He let his fingers tangle into her hair. "Let's leave the Swan, Eagle, and G-Force at the base for today."

"You started it."

He dropped his face to hers and mumbled against her mouth. "And I'm going to finish it." He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply.

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Chief Anderson stood only metres away from his team Commander and his third. His brow furrowed deeply at the vision of the two of them kissing and fondling on the grass in full witness of the hundreds of spectators.

Finally, the distraction of his protégé had been found. It was clear to him, now, why Mark was becoming eager to leave the base at the end of missions and meetings, and why the boy watched the clock and the Swan so closely.

He assumed that it had been a distant admiration that the Eagle was longing for something he couldn't have. That was acceptable. Mark could have as many fantasies about the girl as he wanted. So long as he never acted upon them, that would more than fine. Princess was a shy girl; she would never actually make a move on Mark…

Actually, it should have been Jason who was with Princess. The girl would calm him down in a heartbeat if the two of them were to get together. The whole Federation were behind that coupling – contrary to the many rumours of a Swan/Eagle romance surrounding the project – a grounded and obedient Condor would make everything in this well oiled machine move so much more…smoothly.

Not Mark however. That lad was the Commanding officer, and was destined to be duty-first, everything else second. Not to forget, of course, how unbelievably inappropriate it was for a leader to date one of his subordinates.

He would ensure he had a long meeting with the boy as soon as possible.

3 hours, 23 minutes, and 32 seconds later…

Anderson looked up from his file as Mark, in civilian uniform, knocked lightly on his door. "Come in, Commander."

Mark nervously wiped his hands on down his pants and entered the room. The page had been short, and insistent. "Commander, my office, ASAP." He rarely got those pages, and when he did, it wasn't a good thing.

He took a seat across the desk from Anderson, "is everything okay?"

Anderson removed his glasses and began cleaning them with a red cloth. He didn't look at Mark as he spoke to him. "Actually, no. Something disturbing had been brought to my attention, and I wanted to discuss it with you before it went too far."

Mark cocked his head, innocently regarding his direct head of operations. "What has Jason done this time?"

A smile briefly spread across Anderson's face, but disappeared just as quickly. He looked up finally and replaced his glasses. "The Condor has done nothing out of the ordinary," he paused, "yet."

Mark looked confused.

"When I first offered you the rank of Commander, what was one of the first things we discussed?"

Mark suddenly sank in his chair. This time it was he who had messed up, although for the life of him he couldn't figure out quite how. He took a breath and considered the discussion from almost 7 years ago. "That the position came with responsibility and sacrifice." He frowned and shook his head in bewilderment, "Chief, what is this about?"

Anderson steepled his fingers in front of his face and let his chin rest on his thumbs as his elbows rested on the table. "What is your relationship with your Lieutenant?"

Mark's lips instantly pursed tightly. This was a conversation he hoped he'd never have to have. "You know," he answered quietly in a manner that was both a question and a statement.

"I think all of Toronto knows after your shameless display on the lakeshore this afternoon."

"I really think Princess should be here if you want to have this conversation, Chief," Mark said with a tone to suggest that he wasn't willing to go through this lecture alone.

Anderson stood and paced behind his desk. "This conversation is between you and I, Commander. You will brief her on the details later."

Mark folded his arms and crossed his legs, adopting an arrogant position. "Princess and I are in love, plain and simple. We have been seeing each other for 12 months with no detriment to the team structure or effectiveness."

"Yet," Anderson interrupted.

"We won't allow our relationship…"

"Neither will I," Anderson quickly interrupted before Mark could finish.

"Excuse me?"

"You will put an end to this affair immediately upon leaving my office tonight. I won't have you, or any of the team risking this project with such behaviour."

Mark tilted his head to the side, which took his eyes off Anderson for a moment. "Tiny has a girlfriend, Keyop is randomly dating and Jason is fucking anything that walks. How is that any different to Princess and I seeing each other?"

"You are her Commander."

Mark's focal attention returned to Anderson, who was returning to his chair. "Which means what exactly?"

"This organisation has a strict policy against workplace relationships. You and your team aren't immune to those guidelines." He took a seat and looked hard at Mark. "I expect you to be the example within your team and to all on this project."

Mark shook his head. "No, I won't do it. Princess is the only real happiness I have found and can hang on to. I won't let you take that from me." He inhaled deeply, "I won't do it to her."

"You are violating a direct order by saying that, Commander."

Mark leaned forward in the chair and put a hand on the desk. In thought, he drummed his fingers on the table-top. "There has to be something else we can do, Chief. I can't just tell her that we're over because of a stupid rule that was put in place back in the dark ages."

"That's my rule, Commander. And it's in place for a reason."

Mark's eyes rose to the Chief. "You're not willing to cut us a break at all, are you? You are actually demanding I do this without a care about how she and I feel about it."

Anderson regarded him for a few seconds, and then drew in a breath. "Let me ask you a question."

Mark inhaled and raised his head, ready to answer. "I'm listening."

"There is a Federation head on this side," Anderson held his arms apart, and nodded to his left hand. "On this hand," he indicated his right, "is Princess. You have to make a decision because you have only enough time to save one."

"Oh come on," Mark spat, folding his arms across his chest again. "What kind of scenario is that? That kind of thing only ever happens in comic books, and besides, Princess is more than capable of handling herself in those situations and I have three other team members to rely on to get us out of trouble like that."

"One day that decision may occur, Mark."

Mark gave a cough of annoyance. "Whether or not I am dating Princess is not going to affect my decisions as her Commander. Like it or not, I am in love with her, and me being forced away from her isn't going to change that."

"Those are my orders, Mark. You will end this relationship," he raised his head to look down his nose at Mark. "Or I will have her removed from the project and stationed elsewhere." He stood and set both palms on the desk. "You have 24 hours to carry out those orders."

Mark turned away from him and gave an arrogant smile. "If you remove Princess from the team, you can expect my resignation, and possibly the rest of the team too. We're a goddamned family, you can't take out just one and expect the rest of us to accept it."

"That's how you feel, then?"

Mark nodded, "yes. Chief, let us have at least a little bit of happiness. We have spent out entire lives in the middle of death and destruction. Don't deny her … Especially her … the chance at a little glimmer of pleasure." He almost begged for the Chief to side with him on this. "She deserves it."

"And you? You seem to be all about her and not yourself."

"I don't care about me."

Anderson opened his mouth in a toothless smile and nodded. "I think I've just proven my point."

"Meaning?"

"You are making the decision to defy my orders based on your feelings for Princess." He seemed awfully pleased with himself. "You aren't seeing the big picture, and what could happen one day to your team if you are faced with a decision that involves her."

Mark opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off before he could draw the breath to speak.

"Think about it, Commander. I am asking you to think long and hard about my order, and the future of your team if you wish to continue with your G-Force Workers Union behaviour."

Mark lowered his head and winced at his slip-up.

"I know how you feel. I watched your father go through exactly the same thing for your mother." He waited for Mark to look up at him before continuing. "Would you like to do the same to her one day? Have to abandon her, once your love has engulfed you both, for duty? Would you be able to bring yourself to have to sacrifice her for the lives on this planet, like you have all sworn to do?"

Mark lowered his head again and exhaled sadly.

"It was hard enough for you when you were still kids and she was trapped in that flower, Commander. How would you bring yourself to do it once you've gotten so involved with her you can't let go?"

"I think I understand what you're saying now, Chief."

"You might think I am just being an asshole, Mark. But you kids were sworn to this project and know the sacrifices you must make. I have no problems with an outside relationship, but you can't become involved with someone on the team."

Mark raised his head and stood. "Fine, I'll talk with her tomorrow."

Anderson noted the reddening eyes and defeated stance of his protégé and felt a mixture of sympathy and pride. "Maybe, Mark, when this is all over."

"It will never be over, Chief."

"I'm sorry, Mark. But we have all had to make decisions here that have cut us to the bone. You'll come to understand my orders one day."

Mark nodded sadly and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Am I excused," he asked hoarsely.

"Dismissed, Commander."

Mark said nothing until he was outside Anderson's office, and had closed the door behind him. In a fit of frustration, he rushed at the wall, striking it hard with his fist. The word that left his mouth was hissed so angrily that it was incoherent to anyone passing by.

He finally stormed down to the hangars to find his plane. He needed a long flight to calm him enough, and to find the control he'd need to break the news to Princess.

He hoped that she'd understand….


	2. Chapter 2

The late summer warmth was something to be enjoyed and cherished in the shortening daylight hours in Toronto, Canada. The occasional chill breeze sweeping in off Lake Ontario was a warning of the bitter winter to come and most Torontonians prepared for the annual ritual of swapping summer wardrobes for the winter wear. Princess was no exception to this. And, like most in the Great White North, she liked to put off the daylong exercise until the extreme last minute. Mark arriving for the evening, with a glint in his eye and a husky purr in his voice, had been a welcome distraction. They'd both finally found sleep in the darkest hours of the night.

So now she sat, at 8 o'clock in the morning, on the small balcony of her condominium watching the V-formations of the Canada Geese pass by her on their way to warmer lands. They were a clumsy looking bird when foraging for food in the grass, or crossing the busy Toronto streets. In flight, however, they were majestic creatures to watch. Streamlined, powerful and methodical, they had a grace that only the swan was credited for. It made her smile to think of the misunderstood nature of the bird whose wings she wore in battle. The Swan, much like the majestic Canada Goose, was a stunning creature. Beautiful and full of grace, it was a bird that held a hidden fire that could rival even a mighty Eagle when scorned. She'd not like to be on the receiving end of a Swan's ire.

A grunt from behind interrupted Princess' thoughts. She rolled her head on the backrest of her sun lounge to cast a glance at the dishevelled figure at the sliding glass door. "Good morning, sunshine," she joked as she took note of the not-quite-conscious state of her lover.

He answered with a sniff and a groan. "What time is it?"

She pointed to the coffee pot set up on the table beside her. "Eight and change. You'd better grab yourself a coffee before the beast takes full control of you."

He offered her a sarcastic smile, and poured himself a cup. He flopped heavily onto a sun lounge across from hers. "How long have you been up?"

"Enough to watch the sun rise." She tilted her head at him. "You didn't sleep well at all last night, is something on your mind?"

His eyes widened for a brief second, then glassed over as he let the coffee-mug hover in front of his mouth. "I had a tough decision to make."

"Something I can help with?"

He drew in a breath and glanced at her. "A typical 'Chief' dilemma."

"Oh, one of those." She could clearly read the indecision in his eyes, but knew better than to press. Instead she set her coffee on the table and leaned back in the lounge to look back at Lake Ontario. "It's going to be a beautiful day."

"Yes," he answered her quietly, his eyes still on her.

"What do you want to do today? I was thinking of asking Keyop if he'd be interested in spending the day on the Lakeshore," she looked back at him with a smile. "Or maybe even a walk in High Park."

"Princess…" There was extension on the end of her name, a clear indication that whatever was to follow was something she was not going to like.

"What is it, Mark?"

Mark fought with himself over how to break it to her. All night he'd been tossing and turning over how to approach this subject. This was one of the hardest things the Chief had ever made him do. "I think … Princess, we really should start to see other people."

Her eyes widened and blinked. "Excuse me?"

He took his eyes from her and looked to his bare toes. "This thing between us, we have to end it before we take it too far."

"Mark, you're not really serious, are you?"

He sensed no hostility in her tone, no sadness, just utter, utter confusion. "You need more than I can offer you, Princess. You should…"

"No," she said softly as she pulled herself from her chair and dropped onto her knees in front of him. "You can't mean that, Mark. You give me everything I want, I don't want anything more."

He let his eyes rise to hers, and instantly turned his head away when he saw them full of tears. "I … we have to do this, Prin. You need a distraction from the team and I'm not it."

"Yes you are," she begged as she placed her hands on his knees. She inhaled a sob when he jerked away from her and stood. "Mark, please, don't do this."

"We have to, Prin. This thing," he swept his finger first to her, then him, "has to end."

"No it doesn't," she said desperately, trying to reach out to him again. "You can't mean that."

He artfully kept out of her reach and stood to avoid her touch. "The Chief knows about us, Princess, he gave me no option but to end our relationship." He took a breath, "it's for the good of the team."

"What?" Her voice was a whisper of disbelief.

Mark kept his eyes on the shimmering water of the lake and tried desperately not to look at her. "He's worried that our relationship might put the team in danger one day."

Princess was silent for a few moments as she took in what Mark was saying. Anderson couldn't really have insisted a break-up, could he? They'd been a couple for twelve months and there were no problems with them professionally. How could Mark not have argued that?

"But Mark, we've been so good so far, how can…"

Mark raised a hand to silence her and shook his head. "We have to end it before we become a problem. I can't have my affections for you clouding my judgment when we're on a mission." He turned to face her. "I can't let myself fall in love with you then have to make a decision as to whether or not I have to let you die or risk the team to save your life."

She frowned. "Mark, you're making no sense."

"What about the flowers, Princess? What if I'm faced with something like that again?" He approached her and cupped her face in his hand. "What if I have to choose?"

She slapped his hand away. "How does us breaking up change that?" Her voice settled. "What would you do, now, if I was taken?"

He stared at her with wide eyes for a few seconds. "I don't know," he admitted finally.

"Then tell me how us staying together will change that."

"Because if I fall in love with you, I'd…"

"I thought you already loved me," she interrupted in obvious shock.

He blinked at her and lowered his head, not wanting to meet her eyes. "I do love you, Princess. But … I'm not _in_ love with you."

Princess brought her hand to her face to smother a sob, while the other supported her against the wall. "You're lying, Mark. I know you are."

He raised his eyes to hers. "That's my decision as your Commander, Princess. I'm not asking for you to accept that, I'm ordering it."

That made her cough in disbelief. "You're ordering me?" Her whole body collapsed against the wall, letting only her weakened legs support her enough to save face. "You're ordering me to shut down my feelings and accept this?"

He nodded.

She tilted her head at him and stared at him open-mouthed and in complete shock. "And you think it's just that easy for me to do?" She pulled herself off the wall and took a single step toward him. "Do you think that I care so damn little, that I can just turn my emotions on and off like a tap?"

He didn't like this at all. He'd never seen her quite so incredulous before. "It's our training, Princess. We can't have this empathy for our enemy, civilians or each other."

"Bullshit!" She yelled a little more forcefully than she intended. "It's our empathy for each other and our victims that makes us such damn good fighters. What kind of cock and bull argument is that?"

Mark frowned. "You're addressing your Commander, Princess. Second-guessing my orders and calling it bullshit is insubordinate."

"And you're in my home, Mark," she snapped back. "If you want to preach professionalism, then this conversation would be better off held at the Neptune compound. Not after you've screwed me all night and are on my balcony in nothing but your damn underwear."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I should go."

"Good idea."

He could feel her glare on him as he strode into her bedroom to dress. He prayed to whatever deity listening to help her hold off from crying until he left. He knew if she broke, he would also. As he left her bedroom, he glanced back into the balcony to capture a last glimpse of her. The vision almost shattered him.

She stood sideways to the doorway, her arms hugging herself and head lowered. The rising sun beside her glinted off the tears on her cheeks and embraced her form tightly enough to give the illusion that she was half the size she really was. She suddenly convulsed as her body released a held sob, and she dropped to her knees, blinding him with the sudden appearance of the sun.

"I'm so sorry, Princess," he breathed. "But I have to do this."

Her head turned to him, years of training having enabled her to hear even the softest whisper. "Just go, Mark."

He dropped his head and swiped his car keys from the breakfast counter. He heard her finally break into sobs as he quietly clicked the door closed behind him. He only made it to the elevator, himself, before the same emotion took him and he slumped against the stainless steel wall.

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

The beauty of living in a trailer was that one could spend their life in nomadic bliss; moving from location to location as the scenery began to bore them. It was boredom in the rural scenery just outside the city of Brampton that saw Jason move closer to Toronto. His trailer was now comfortably tucked into a wooded area only a short trip down the highway from Princess. It was private, quiet, and exactly what the Condor needed on his time off from G-Force activities.

Target practice with an antique six-shooter gun was a good release from tension, although on occasion it brought curious police officers to his trailer with fines and threats of detention if he didn't cease and desist from discharging an illegal firearm within city limits. Most of these visits from Toronto's finest were shrugged off with a quick curl of the lip and a snarl. He'd tell them to send each fine to Security Chief Anderson of the Federation; they did without much fuss, and the fines were always paid on time. If anything, the prompt payments looked great on his credit report.

It was target practice that held Jason's attention when his Commander showed up for a surprise visit. He was lining up unopened pop cans, left over from a visit by Keyop, for destruction when the black Oldsmobile Alero pulled up beside the G-2. He peered over his shoulder at the car as his finger squeezed the trigger and sent a can flying into the air, spraying purple-coloured pop in a foamy spiral.

"Tough night, Mark?" He asked as Mark approached with his head lowered and hands in his pockets. "You look like shit."

"I can always rely on you to make me feel like a million, Jase," he answered sarcastically as he slumped against a tree beside Jason.

"If you're looking for compliments about how pretty you are, you've come to the wrong place," he smirked as he lined up another shot.

Mark silently watched Jason squeeze off two shots that exploded the pop cans and discoloured the fur of a passing raccoon. It quickly ran off when Jason re-aimed his weapon towards it. The silence between the two men lasted about ten minutes before Jason decided to question his commander.

"So what did I do this time?"

Mark raised a brow. "Huh?"

"Well," he began as he flipped open the chamber of the gun to empty the shells onto the grass at his feet. "You only ever come to visit if I've made some mistake that you'd prefer the rest the team didn't know about."

Mark shook his head. "Not this time, man. This time it's me who's in trouble."

Jason raised an impressed brow and tucked the weapon into the belt of his jeans. "What did you do, forget to cross a 't' in your report? Forgot to fill in a time sheet?"

"I broke up with Princess."

Jason froze for a moment as an indescribable look crossed his face. "You did what?" He turned quickly and stared at Mark in amazement.

The look made him squirm uncomfortably. "The Chief caught us together at the air-show. He pulled me into a meeting the next day and read me the riot act that specifically included the do's and don'ts of being a Commander."

"Oh … Shit."

He nodded, "he told me in no uncertain terms that the affair between Princess and I had to end."

"And you went along with it?"

"What the Hell am I supposed to do, man?"

Jason smirked and shook his head. "Clueless, Skipper, absolutely clueless."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jason leaned his rump against the window of the G2 and folded his arms across his chest. "What is the old man going to do if you don't break up with her? Fire you?"

"God," Mark said with a shake of the head. "I don't know. All I know is that the Chief tore me a new one and demanded that I break it off before we endanger the whole damn team." He frowned then looked up at Jason. "You're not surprised that she and I were dating?"

"If you call midnight rendezvous and stay-overs dating."

"How the Hell did you know me and Princess were together?"

Jason grinned, "it's pretty obvious, Mark. Both of you have been all smiles and more compliant with each other than normal since we arrived in this country. Heck, you've even had more tolerance for that damned robot than normal."

"I've always had time for Zark."

Jason raised a brow. "Okay, you've been less inclined to argue with him when he offers a solution you don't like."

Mark smiled then frowned and raised his head to the tree canopy sheltering them both from the sun. "I doubt she'd even take me back, Jason. I broke her heart, I'm sure of it."

He rolled his eyes and let out a grunt. "Please, just flash her those baby-blues and tell her you love her. If I know Princess, she'll just melt and tell you that all is forgiven."

Mark shook his head. "No, not this time. She was pretty upset when I left." He kicked at a rock and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. "No, I'll just do what the Chief ordered and end up a miserable, loveless old man ruing the day I broke the heart of the woman I loved."

"I heard a rumour somewhere that the Eagle actually has some balls," Jason smirked. "That was obviously a lie."

"Oh, don't start, okay."

"Mark," Jason sighed, "talk to her. Don't put yourselves through this it's just stupid. As long as we as a team don't give a shit about whether or not you two are getting it on the side, then who is the Chief to tell you it's wrong?"

"He's right, Jase, it's inappropriate for me to be seeing her."

"I think it's more inappropriate for the Commander to break it off with his third," he muttered in response. "I mean, shit, how pleasant are things going to be for the rest of us over the next few weeks?"

Mark's eyes widened, "I never considered that."

"Count yourself lucky the girl's a professional. She might not ever speak to you again, but she'll at least behave when on duty."

Mark shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Which is why she has to understand why I'm doing this. The Chief ordered the relationship over, and I'm not going to go against those orders."

Jason shrugged and peeled himself from the side of the car. "Then why are you talking to me? Obviously you've made your decision." He walked into his trailer and motioned for Mark to follow him. "But that isn't to say we can't share a few beers and you tell me all the juicy stuff that is Princess."

Mark shrugged and followed behind his second. "I'll take your beer, but you're not finding out anything about Princess. A gentleman never tells."

Jason smirked and tossed a bottle of beer at Mark. "Good thing you're not a gentleman, Mark."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

It shouldn't have come as any real surprise that her world would come crashing down at some point. It seemed to be in her karma that anything she truly enjoyed and honoured would eventually sour or disappear altogether. Why should her relationship with Mark have been any different?

Meditation on her balcony had been fruitless. She had tried but crawled with far too much negative energy drawing strength off of her many emotions from her talk with Mark. With feelings of anger, betrayal, sadness, confusion and disappointment, she was unable to focus all of her energy on one. It made her meditation impossible. With contemplation out, she chose instead to open a bottle of Chardonnay and sit on her balcony to drown her pain in the slowly setting sun.

She felt pity for the sun this evening as it's light bled red and orange against the few clouds that had come to witness it's daily death. The cool winds off the lake felt like a sigh of defeat to the early moon whose very being seemed to mock the last remnants of the day. She blew the sun a farewell kiss, then closed her eyes and leaned back heavily in the sun chair to consider a plan of action for the next time she had to face Mark.

As she contemplated her inner control, there was a knock at the door.

She had a feeling deep in her gut that it was likely Mark. He was probably coming over to make sure she totally understood his decision and was not going to make life difficult for he and the team in the coming few days. With that in mind, she slouched deeper into her chair to act as though she was completely ignoring it.

The knocking softened then turned into a ring of her doorbell.

"Oh for goodness sake," she muttered under her breath as she awkwardly rocked herself to pull out of the chair. "I'm coming, ok?"

Her visitor must have heard, or walked away, because the knocking and ringing ceased. Princess ran her hands over her clothing to smooth it out as she approached. After carefully checking herself in the mirror, she opened the door.

Her brunette visitor smiled widely and opened her arms to invite a hug. "Cess!!"

Princess' eyes widened in surprise and she beamed an ecstatic smile as she hugged her friend tightly. "Jill! Oh, it's been too long. What are you doing in Toronto?"

Jill took Princess' hands and walked past her to pull her back into the Condo. "I'm here for a couple of weeks to take part in a franchise convention." She pulled the two of them down on to the couch. "They want to franchise the J."

Princess blinked and giggled in excitement. "That's fantastic, Jill."

Jill tucked her hair behind her ear and looked quickly around the condo. "Where's Mark? Is he doing his White Shadow thing and hiding in the corner?"

"He's not here."

Jill chuckled playfully. "Did you smack him on the butt and send him home?"

Princess shook her head and sighed deeply. "No. He went home all by himself."

Jill caught the change in expression. "Oh no, you guys didn't…" She knew she didn't exactly need to finish the question.

"Yeah. This morning, actually."

Jill took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Well, my visit couldn't have been better timed." She raised her eyes and immediately caught sight of the bottle of wine on the balcony. "Come on, you. Let's finish off that bottle, open another, and you tell me exactly what happened."

Princess returned the hand squeeze and led her friend to the balcony. "I'd rather not bore you with the details, but the drink sounds good."

Jill propped her feet up on the small wicker table in front of her matching seat and swirled the wine in her glass. Her nose screwed up disapprovingly. "Ontario wine? Princess have you learned nothing from me?"

"Just drink it," she responded with a smile over the rim of her own glass.

"You don't drink this stuff, you strip paint with it."

"Mark left some Blue in the fridge, it my wine offends you so much, drink that."

Jill shuddered and took a small sip from her glass. "Canadian beer is worse than their wine. I'll drink this."

Princess sat in silence, slowly and deliberately sizing up her friend. Jill seemed different tonight ... she just couldn't pinpoint the exact reason.

"So," she began slowly. "Is everything really okay with you, Jill?"

"Couldn't be better, Cess." Jill gave a wink and a smile and leaned back into the chair. It was at that exact moment Princess noticed what was so different.

"Oh. My. God!" The words escaped before she'd had a chance to suppress her shock.

Jill chuckled.

"When did you get …" Princess raised her hand, palm upward, in a four-finger point of her friend's chest. "Those?"

"Aren't they amazing?"

"They … They're…" Princess was at a complete loss for anything coherent to say, and made do with a blush and a shift of her eyes to the concrete at her feet. "Oh my goodness." Her hand was still raised, so she wiggled her fingers then closed her hand into a loose fist. "Why?"

"Revenge," Jill sneered in the direction of the wine bottle as she leaned forward to pour another glass."

Princess' eyes immediately rose, as did her brows. "How does," she curled the index and middle fingers on both hands to indicate a quote, "the 'saline solution' constitute revenge?"

"Do you remember what happened with Jarrod?"

Princess raised her eyes to the sky as she searched her memory. "The fiancee who dumped you for the stripper whose stage show was me?"

Jill chuckled, digressing for long enough to joke, "Yeah, really. The Swan with F-cups: Just a shake of her chest and the enemy fall to their knees."

"And don't you think that Jason hasn't made that suggestion once or twice."

"Really?" Jill questioned in pseudo-disbelief. "I didn't think he was the type to…" She stopped then shook her head. "I honestly can't finish that thought and pretend to be serious."

"Anyway," Princess drawled. "Back to your new girls."

"Well," Jill answered after a sip of her wine. "His engagement ring was worth exactly what these babies cost."

Princess merely raised an unconvinced brow.

Jill tilted the glass at her. "Hey, he always said that if I had a bigger rack that I'd be the ultimate woman." She poked her chest out and looked down at herself. "And hasn't he tried to crawl back since I got these."

"So you two are back on?"

Jill shook her head with a laugh. "Oh Hell no. I'm enjoying myself way too much now."

"Oh I bet."

Jill suddenly pursed her lips in what looked like a sudden brainstorm. "Now there's a great break-up remedy for you."

Princess choked on a mouthful of wine. "What?!"

"There's nothing like a change of image to stick it to them and say 'look what you gave up'."

Princess struggled to swallow the lump in her throat and answered with a raspy voice. "I am not getting myself a pair of those."

"Why not?"

"Aside from the fact they've never been tested against the implosive pressurization of the Phoenix cabin during firebird-mode, or against the gravitational and vacuum pulls of alien planets," Princess argued in a manner far too logical to keep the conversation as light as Jill had intended. "I don't want to think of the possible rupture ramifications during hand to hand combat and centrifugal forces during routine training sessions." She took a breath, "I think the cons far outweigh the pros of making Mark's eyes bulge."

Jill smiled and rubbed at her jaw. "I was actually thinking of a haircut and a new dress or something."

Princess' mouth pursed as she let out a relived breath.

"In your case, Cess, just changing your shade of lip-gloss would be a big change of image. Fake boobs are just a few miles beyond you."

Princess let her back fall into her chair and relaxed to pull her knees up lazily to her chest. "Well, the Federation did issue me a new civilian wardrobe a few months back. I suppose I could start actually wearing something from there."

Jill's brows shot skyward. "You were given a new wardrobe?"

Princess nodded and scratched at the peeling gloss on her toenails. "It's all just a little too … fashionable … for my taste."

"There is no such thing as too fashionable."

"Uh, yeah. There is."

Jill shook her head and pulled a pack of American cigarettes from her pocket. "Well, lets have a look and play around with what they gave you, then."

Princess chewed on her cheek, then took the pack of cigarettes from her best friend's hand. "A change of image, you say?"

"That," she replied, pointing at the cigarettes, "is not exactly what I would recommend. It's a filthy habit."

"And something Princess would never do."


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, Princess," Jill called from her rental car as she dropped Princess off at the private on-land base for the Federation. "I'll call you when we're done."

Princess gave an open-mouthed smile and pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. "See you later."

"Drinks tonight at seven, your highness," she called as she spun the wheels of the Dodge Charger and tore back down the highway.

Princess watched her leave, and then walked into the secured parking garage to retrieve her motorcycle. In the week since she'd separated with Mark, she'd undergone a radical change of appearance. Gone were the shoulder-blade length curls and the youthful flared jeans and retro tee-shirt. Her hair was layered and short, offering her a neat waif look that lengthened her neck and gave her more elegance. The green highlights that had followed her throughout her teenage years were now tinted a fire engine red that was offset with her natural black hair and a splattering of golden blonde streaks.

It helped to have Jill as a guide into the world of fashion. Having grown up with only the guys and Federation scientists as her models had made her a fashion retard. With Jill's coaxing, Princess had finally become the little fashionista she should have been years ago. Gone were the flattening and unflattering Federation-issue sports bra and cotton-lycra panties. They'd been replaced with Victoria's best-kept little secrets and hid snugly under leather pants and flattering above-the-knee skirts and dresses. In all, she looked fashionably feminine without looking like a tramp or a teenager.

Today, she wore a white, tight sling shirt that sat on her left shoulder, and a black pair of leather pants. Her carefully designed – but never worn – black leather motorcycle jacket finished the ensemble. The jacket held the number three that was typical of the G-Force civilian uniform, and was decorated with the silhouette of a lonely swan on the right arm. The helmet was designed in much the same manner, a look that was as much a racing style as it was streetwear.

She threw her leg over the body of her bike and set her helmet on the gas tank as she retrieved a half-full pack of cigarettes from the chest pocket of her jacket. She'd never been a smoker. Not since the days of her youth when Jason had started, and she'd attempted to do the same in an attempt to look 'cool'. But Jill was what she termed a 'trade-smoker' – a smoker because in her industry not smoke was rather fruitless. So she'd taught Princess the 'right' way to inhale. After a few attempts and fits of coughing and a burning back throat, she'd finally gotten the hang of it and actually enjoyed it – especially when coupled with a tequila or two.

She unzipped her jacket and leaned her body backward to enjoy everything the little white stick offered her.

Mark entered the underground garage with his nose buried in the latest reports submitted by the technical investigators about the latest kill of the week – a giant mecha fashioned into an Asian Long-Horned Beetle. Usually, scrutinizing the mission reports was Chief Anderson's duty, but in an attempt to keep himself busy enough to not have to bump into his third during the course of the day, he'd taken on the role himself.

His need to see her was as strong as his need to be apart from her. The separation was slowly eating him up inside. He needed her … He needed *them*.

He was desperate to know how she was coping with the sudden break-up, and was relying on word from Jason and Keyop as to how she was doing. Reports from both were in the positive. Princess had rebounded and was apparently acting as though she didn't really care one way or the other.

'That can't be healthy', he thought to himself as he made his way towards the car. Princess was never one to bottle up her emotions, and this was definitely not the time to start.

His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of cigarette smoke and he sighed heavily thinking it was Jason waiting for him again with another "talk to her about this, man" speech. He flicked his wrist in a clumsy wave, but didn't take his eyes from his report.

"Not today Jason. I'm not in the mood for it," he muttered as he fished in his pocket for his car keys.

There was a small chuckle, then the voice of the very one he was avoiding. "Are you and Jason fighting again?"

Mark's eyes widened and he flicked his head toward her. "Princess…" he cut himself off at the sight of her. She looked so … different. "What happened to you?"

Princess arched a brow and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground. "I decided to enjoy life sans Eagle." She leaned forward and rested her forearms on her helmet. "Working hard I see."

He tilted his head at her and looked almost pained. "Princess about us, I'm sorry. I had no…"

She interrupted him with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Yeah, yeah, honour and duty and all that stuff. Don't bother giving me the let-me-down-gently lecture, I don't need it."

He sighed and spoke softly. "Don't be like that."

"Like what, Mark?" She said as she looked him up and down with a disgusted look. "I'm getting on with it, playing nice, making sure our little unit is going to function all nice and friendly."

"This hurts me too, you know."

"Good," she said firmly as she pulled her helmet over her newly cropped hair. "I want you to hurt."

He blinked slowly. "That's not very nice."

Her head tilted and a smile crossed her face, "neither were you." She pulled on a pair of black leather riding gloves and turned the key on the gas tank. With a low rumble, the engine of her modified trail bike roared to life. "I'm heading to Neptune for training with the boys. Will I tell them that our distinguished Commander will be joining us?"

Mark stared hard at her. He was silent and deeply unimpressed. When he felt the ache in the back of his throat subside, he dared speak. "We have a briefing session with the Chief at 0900. I'll see you there."

She shook her head and gave a small smile. "The joys of leadership, you don't need to train with your team." She began to walk her bike backward to reverse it from its parking bay. "Must be lonely at the top, Mark."

He grabbed at the handlebars of her bike and pulled it to a stop. His legs now straddled the front tire and he glared at her, "we are NOT going to do this, Princess."

She blinked, raised a brow, but said nothing.

"I mean it. I won't have dissension like this between us."

"Don't worry, Commander," she said smoothly as she pried his fingers off her bike. "I'll be your perfect little Swan when we're with the team." She squeezed the throttle of her bike and turned the handlebars away from him. "But if I don't want to play nice off-duty, I don't have to."

His voice softened at the smell of exhaust and her imminent departure. "Please don't do this, Prin. It's not fair."

"You're right … it's not." She looked away from him, released the hand brake and sped out of the garage.

Mark watched her leave inside a cloud of white smoke and waved his hand in front of his face to brush away the smell of burning rubber.

"It's just not fair."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

The first sound to meet with Mark's ears as he entered the Centre Neptune G-Force Training Wing was a shrill squeal and giggles, and then the voice of Keyop demanding, "go get her, Jason! Make her pay". He then found himself pressed against the wall as Princess shot by him, waving a pair of blue and white-striped jeans proudly in the air. Jason appeared, next, buckled up his jeans, then launched himself into a sprint after her.

Mark raised both brows and watched them both disappear around the corner. "What the?"

"Princess got my jeans, then went for Jason's," Keyop said with a grin as he took position beside Mark.

Mark looked down at his younger team mate and frowned when he saw the boy wearing only his number four tee-shirt and a baggy pair of boxer shorts with an image of the Incredible Hulk on the front. "Id this what constitutes training when I'm not available?"

Keyop shrugged. "We've been training now for nearly two hours; this is just a cool down exercise."

"Since when?"

Keyop raised a brow at Mark's unimpressed tone. "Since you were too busy to tell us otherwise." He shrugged and walked down towards the briefing room, where he knew Princess had probably run to seek asylum with the Chief.

Mark rubbed at his brows and let out a long sigh. Perhaps this avoidance plan of his was more detrimental to the team than facing Princess on the base. He let that thought run through his mind as he entered the Chief's office and took a seat on a stiff-looking armchair beside the couch his team were perched on.

"Good morning, team," the Chief began, using a monotone voice in greeting to the five before him. They all nodded and relaxed; Princess leaning on Jason and suppressing a giggle, Tiny ending a thumb-wrestle with Keyop and Mark slouching awkwardly in his own chair. "I know you're all wondering why I've brought you in, so I'll get right to the point." His eyes searched the faces of G-Force, and then settled on a folder in his hand. "I have an unusual mission for you."

Jason threw an arm over Princess' shoulder and slid down into a lazy slouch. "Define unusual."

"Unusual is us not getting an urgent call from Zark to get our butts on the Phoenix because Spectra is attacking," Keyop muttered with a cheeky grin.

"Keyop," Princess warned, "let the Chief speak." Her eyes flicked to Anderson, "continue."

Chief Anderson raised a brow at her in a manner to suggest that he was going to do just that, regardless of what any of the team wanted to say. "Thank you, Princess. Unusual, Jason, is you and the rest of the team working undercover on a stake-out of sorts." He was met by five confused frowns and opted to continue before any of them could speak. "I'm sure you've all heard of the latest rash of young women being reported missing from the Jane and Finch area of Toronto?"

"They were all students at York University, weren't they?" Mark asked with a tilted head.

"Yes, Commander. It's good to see you're following with the current affairs of the city."

"The disappearances seemed to coincide with the rumour that Princess was taking classes at the university." His eyes flicked to his third, who seemed more interested in a piece of lint on her chest than his explanation. "I have been closely monitoring the story to make certain Spectra isn't involved."

"Getting sneaky isn't exactly Spectra's style, Skipper." Jason was quick to offer. "If it was Zoltar, he'd just barrel a mecha in there and demand that she show herself to him."

Mark nodded. "True. But I wanted to keep an eye on things, just in case. Who knows when he'll wise up and change his M.O. to something a little harder for us to intercept?"

"I'm actually a little more concerned with how the rumour got out in the first place," Princess offered as she flicked open her cell-phone and appeared to search her address book. "We considered the possibility of me attending some classes only the once, and you nixed the idea the following day."

Anderson nodded. "We're still looking in to that, Princess, and there are no phones during briefings."

She rolled her eyes and flicked the phone closed as she sank down in the chair at Anderson's words, "Sorry."

Tiny leaned forward in an attempt to actively participate in the meeting. "Do you think that the rumour has anything to do with the disappearances, Chief?"

"You tell me." He opened the file onto the coffee table in front of the couch and laid out the photographs of each of the missing girls. "Take a good look at these women, team."

Princess' eyes widened, as did her mouth, in surprise and she looked up to be greeted with four sets of panicked eyes. "Oh my God," she breathed with a shudder. "They look like…Like, exactly like…"

Mark coughed. "I think the answer to your question is 'yes', Tiny."

"My God, those injuries are horrific, Chief."

He nodded as he replied. "They were tortured mercilessly before they were given to the dogs."

Princess' head snapped to Anderson. "Dogs?"

"Near as we can tell, anyway." He opened a file on his knee and rubbed at his chin. "Dog bite injuries three days anti-mortem. Looks like they were captured by a large-breed canine, then kept in an unsanitary location until they were finally … fed, I guess you could say, to the dogs. Individual bite marks suggest there were at least four animals."

Princess' hand covered her mouth and her eyes seemed to fill with tears. "Oh, that's horrible."

"So what are you saying, chief?" Jason asked as his arms folded tightly across his chest.

"I think my decision regarding Princess attending University classes has changed."

"No," Jason spat loudly, "you aren't thinking of using Princess as bait."

"Not exactly, Jason. You'll all be watching her."

Mark blinked, looked at the display of Princess look-alikes, then nodded. "I'm siding with Jason on this one, Chief. I won't put her in danger like that."

"I can handle myself," she offered meekly, her tone betraying her words.

"No, Princess," Mark countered. "This is something the Police should be investigating, not us." He looked back to the Chief. "You'll have to think of something else."

"This is your mission," Chief Anderson said flatly, continuing to cease any further arguments. "You're all enrolled in night classes at York University. Sandra in the tactical offices has your schedules. I want you to look around, ask questions, and find out what is going on in there, who is doing this and what we can do to stop it."

Jason swept a hand over the photographs to push them off the table. "This is bullshit, Chief. Mark's right, the cops should be looking into this, not us."

"Um," Princess hummed, trying to get their attention.

Anderson looked in between Jason and Mark. "Are the two of you saying that you're willing to let this continue? That you are going to say no to this mission?"

Mark folded his arms across his chest. "I'm just saying that you can't send Princess in there and risk her being captured."

"Guys," Princess tried again.

She was ignored again, this time by Jason leaning forward. "We aren't small-time investigators here, Chief. If he wants to march in here and make a go at her, then … and only then will we deal with it."

"I dare him to try," Mark humphed.

"So that's your final word, then? You're saying no to the mission?" The Chief's tone suggested he was a little more than disappointed at that.

"Yes," Mark and Jason chorused.

Princess let out a frustrated sigh and stood from the couch. "Don't we even get a say in this?" she asked, indicating she, Tiny and Keyop.

The Chief's eyes rose to hers, waiting to see what she had to say on the matter. "Go ahead, Princess."

She could feel the glare of her two superiors on her as she stooped to pick up the photos of the girls from the floor. She gave a wince at the crime scene photos taken on discovery of the girl's bodies. "Tell me what to do, Chief. I'll do it."

He smiled gratefully at her, "that's my girl."

"No, Princess. I won't let you do this," Mark growled across from her.

Her eyes rose to his and she half-curled a lip. "I'm doing it, Commander, whether you like it or not." She sighed deeply. "If these women are being attacked because of me, then I have to do this.

He shot up from the chair and snatched the photographs from her hand. "I said no, and in case you've forgotten your place on this team, I am the one who decides whether or not this team moves out."

Her hand rose and she pointed a finger at the Chief, "and in case you've forgotten, he outranks you. I am not letting another woman go missing. If I can get in there and stop it, I'm sure as hell going to do it."

"This is a job for qualified investigators, Princess. You aren't trained in this type of thing."

She blinked slowly and gave a flick of her head in disbelief at him. "I am one of your covert ops specialists, Mark."

"That's different, it's military."

"And how is me attending a few University classes and having a look around any more dangerous than doing a stake-out and sneak-in of a Spectran base?"

He stared at her a moment knowing that he was unable to give her a reasonable answer to her question. He didn't take his eyes off her as he spoke again, this time to the Chief. "Because my third seems so eager to do this, we'll all back her up." His head slowly moved to look at his supervisor. "I expect total co-operation from the RCMP and the OPP on this; that includes receiving 12 hour updates on their investigation. If I think for a nanosecond that she's in danger, I want her out."

Anderson nodded, "that's reasonable, Commander."

Mark let his gaze shift back to Princess and looked her up and down. "This means that you will be in civilian uniform at all times. Your new choice of wardrobe may be pretty, but it won't help you if you get in trouble."

"I wouldn't call it 'pretty', Mark," Jason muttered from behind them with a smirk.

"Actually, Commander, this 'pretty' outfit is part of my new G-Force uniform." She gave a little presentation spin to show off the ensemble. "It all helps me blend in to the crowd a little better than pink and white stripes and a gigantic number three on my chest."

"Blend in?" His eyes narrowed. "You already knew about this mission?"

"Commander," Anderson interrupted with a long-suffering sigh. "Princess knows as much as you do. The uniform change was granted long before this file was put on my desk."

Keyop's brow rose. "Does that mean we're all getting a change?"

"Eventually, yes. We started with Princess mainly because she insisted, and because she needed a change more than the rest of you." Anderson closed the file in front of him, and offered it to Mark. "You'll need to thoroughly go through this with Princess before tonight. I want you to know exactly what to expect if and when you make contact."

Mark's eyes rose to Princess'. "I'll make sure we both spend the rest of the day together going through it."

Anderson looked to Princess for complaint and let out a relieved breath when she smiled, nodded in agreement and took a seat beside Jason. "Good, then. Team, your individual mission papers with each of your assignments are with Sandra in Tactical. Good luck."

The team rose and did a jubilant salute and cheer of their team name. This energy between them all lasted until the door to the briefing room closed behind them and Keyop and Tiny took off down the hallway towards the rec room for food and Nintendo.

Princess frowned as Keyop took flight. "Keyop! Don't forget you have work to do. The Nintendo can wait." She wasn't surprised, but shook her head when she got no response from him.

Mark smirked at the lad. "Princess, I have something to finish before we go through this. Meet me in my office in about thirty minutes and we'll go through this information."

She sighed, "let's not, and say we did."

"Excuse me?"

"Given the circumstances, Mark. I think it's better if I go through the notes alone. But thank you for the offer to hold my hand."

Both Jason and Mark looked at her in surprise as she offered her most innocent smile. Jason was the first to break the silence. "Prin, we really should all get up to speed on this. I'll work with you and Mark on this, okay?"

She groaned and started a walk toward the garage. "Why bother? It isn't like this is Zoltar taking apart the planet with a giant mecha. It's just a serial killer who thinks that my look is the one he likes. I think I can handle it."

Mark tilted his head at her. "I disagree."

She grunted, "you would." Her attention shifted to Jason. "Jase, you and Mark can work together on this if you want. I'll go through the notes at home with a cigarette and a coffee." Not allowing time for either of them to comment or argue, she turned sharply and bounded down the hallway to the garage. "See you guys later!"

Jason's eyes were wide when she burst through the door and disappeared. "She is so ticked at you."

"You've only just caught on?" Mark extended his arm to drum his fingers on the wall. "When I said she didn't take it well, I wasn't exaggerating."

"Have you given anymore thought to tossing aside the Chief's orders and getting back with her?"

"I can't."

Jason gave an unimpressed one-sided smirk and shook his head. "You want to, though."

"Desperately."

"I guess it doesn't help when she gives herself a makeover to look about a hundred times more sexy than I'd ever thought she could be."

Mark nodded in agreement. "I know," he breathed.

Jason slapped Mark on the shoulder and gave a supportive shrug. "One day you'll work it out, man. I just hope you don't find your answer and it's too late."

Mark shook himself to shake the thoughts from his head, and slapped the file against Jason's chest. "Well let's do this, then. I want to know this entire file's contents better than the back of my hand by the time we start classes tonight." His eyes flicked up to the garage door when he caught the distant sound of the G-3 engine tearing out of the parking lot. "I have a bad feeling that this isn't going to be what we expect it is."


	4. Chapter 4

Princess bumped into Jill in the elevator as she returned to her building for a day of study. Her arms were laden with files, mission specs and a lap top computer that refused to fit in the shoulder bag that the technicians gave her.

Jill ran her eyes over the burden in her friend's arms and shook her head. "How did you fit all of that on the bike?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh don't ask."

Jill extended her neck to peek at the file names in the hopes of getting some 'inside' information. Princess smiled and shook her head as she opened the door for the two of them, then dumped a pile of folders into Jill's arms. "I hate paperwork."

"I'm wondering if we shouldn't start a file on the '_get back at Mark_' mission," Jill joked as she dumped the pile onto the nearest table. "How is it going with he and the boys?"

"Same old, I guess. Jason told me to tell you to hurry up and get your, and I quote, 'sexy little ass' down to the new base so he can check out the new and improved twins."

"Tiny?"

"Says pretty much the same, except includes mention that he just can't get a decent burger in this city."

"Keyop?"

"Is glad he's not doing dishes for you anymore."

"Which leaves us with Mark."

Princess sighed and let her jacket slide off her shoulders. "I really haven't spoken to him, Jill. I'm sure he'd be glad to see you, though."

Jill leaned her back up against the wall and jutted her chin at the files. "So are they important?"

"Just technical stuff, I guess," Princess replied with a careful shrug. "Nothing too urgent, why?"

"Well … If it isn't all that important, then there's no need for you to hold yourself up in your apartment all day." There was a glint in her eye. "One of the nightclub owners is throwing a pool party. Want to come?"

Princess pursed her lips. "Oh, I really shouldn't. I have to read this information, and then I start University classes tonight."

Jill raised a brow. "University? Since when?"

Princess groaned and stalked to the fridge for a bottle of water. "Orders from the Chief. I guess he wants us to expand our horizons or something."

"First day?"

Princess nodded.

"Ahh you won't miss anything."

"But I have orders, and I have to go through those files."

Jill smirked. "Oh come now, Princess. You said yourself that those papers aren't important … and university? Oh please, the first day is just orientation anyway. Come on, you'll have fun and get to meet some really nice people."

Princess tilted her head backward in indecision. "I don't know, Jill. I am still technically on duty, and if my Commander finds out…"

"Mark?! HA!" She linked arms with Princess and pulled her towards her bedroom to change. "I wouldn't worry about him, and anyway. I've been telling some of the club owners all about you. They're dying to meet you."

Princess gasped. "No, Jill, really I cant."

Jill read the blush in Princess' cheeks and giggled. "You have no choice, Cess. I'm taking you on a well-deserved party where you can show off that amazing body and impress the boys. Who knows, Randy might be just what you need to relieve some of that Mark-induced stress and anxiety."

"Randy?"

Jill waggled her brows playfully at her and giggled, "by name and nature."

A look of genuine worry passed over Princess' face as she stooped to pick up her files and computer. "If he has a mullet, I'm going to kill you."

Jill let out a long laugh as Princess dropped butt-first onto her bed. "Oh, girl. You'll adore him, I promise you. He is going to be just what you need to get over Mark and enjoy life."

"Okay, okay, I'll go," she chuckled with a shaking head. "Just give me a few minutes to get changed and find my bikini."

"That's my girl," Jill cheered. "Well take a cab, because we'll be drinking a lot of expensive champagne and be hanging with a ton of greased up hunks. If Randy isn't your type, I'm sure you'll find someone else."

Princess laughed and waved her friend off. "I'm sure I'll find something."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

"We'll take my bike, I'll need to leave by seven in order to make it to my first class on time. Will you be okay to get yourself home?"

Jill shook her head with a sigh as she waited with Princess at the elevator. "Forget about University tonight. You have an opportunity to do something with people most others would only dream about." She nudged Princess with her elbow as the elevator doors opened. "You got an invite to an exclusive party! The Host is dying to meet you." Without looking, she dragged Princess into the roomy elevator car. "You could be the girlfriend of one of the owners of Metropolis Night Club."

"Metropolis?"

The look that crossed Jill's face was almost frightening. "You haven't gotten out much, have you? Metropolis is only the hottest new club in the country."

"I'm pretty busy, Jill," Princess tried. "And besides, I don't need a boyfriend, I mean, I only just broke up with…"

"God, forget about Mark," she interrupted with a groan. "That man threw you aside like you were nothing. He has given you not only permission, but also the right to go out and get yourself a life! You are an amazing looking woman who could have a different man every night … why shouldn't you?"

The clearing of a throat caught their attention, and both girls turned quickly to see who else was in the car. They were greeted by the blue-eyed glare that made both girls gasp. Jill was the first to break the silence. "Speak of the devil. Mark. Long time, no see."

His glare settled on Jill. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Mark, what are you doing here?" Princess all but stuttered.

"I could ask you the same question." His eyes slowly slid to her. "Don't you have some files to go through?"

"I know all I need to know, Mark." She answered with as much confidence as she could muster given that she was receiving a glare that Mark generally reserved for Jason or the Spectran goon of the week. "I am taking some time off before I start classes tonight."

"Spending the afternoon drinking is not exactly good preparation for your first night."

Jill gave a quick laugh. "Who are you, her dad? Make sure you're home by ten, Princess." She rolled her eyes and shook her head at Mark's unimpressed blink. "Oh, lighten up, Mark," she purred giving him a slap on his shoulder. "Just because you're miserable, doesn't mean she has to be."

The elevator doors opened, and Jill skipped out into the foyer. Princess bit at her lip and stepped out to follow her. She felt Mark take hold of her arm and pull her into him. She looked at the hand on her arm, her concentration thrown by the feel of his chest against her back. His breath was hard against her ear. "Princess, what are you doing?"

"Getting a life," she said softly.

"You have a dangerous mission starting tonight. You should be preparing for it."

She had been waiting for 'please don't do this, Princess. Let's work this out'. When she only received talk of the upcoming mission, her entire body slumped. "Don't worry about me, Commander. I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be."

He gave a start when she pulled roughly away from him. "Princess, I'm ordering you to stay here and finish studying those files."

She walked away from him. "I'll see you tonight, Mark."

"Princess, that's an order."

She offered him a look, then shook her head and gave a dismissive flick of her hand. "Tonight, Mark."

He stared, in defeat, at her back as she joined Jill at the automatic doors. "Please…" he whispered softly knowing that she would hear him if she cared enough to listen. "Don't do this, Princess."

She didn't look back at him, but the sudden stiffness in her walk told him she'd heard.

He waited for a few moments, wondering if she'd run back into the doors and rush into his arms with an apology. Part of him was glad she didn't…

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Princess pulled the bike up into the driveway to a massive house in the famed Bridle Path district of Toronto. Still reeling from her brief meeting with Mark in the elevator with Jill, she didn't take too much notice of the home. She'd heard his plea as she left the building. She'd heard it as clear as if he'd called it out for the world to hear.

Why did he insist on doing this? Push and pull and push -- it felt like a theme-park ride that she didn't want to go on. She wished he'd just make up his mind and decide 'yes, or no'.

A squeal and a sudden yank of her arm drew her from her thoughts.

"Princess, oh there he is. I am dy-y-ying to introduce you two!"

She struggled a little against her, more to keep her own balance than to escape her. "Jill, please, you're pulling my arm from its…" Her words caught in her throat when she finally took notice of the people around her. It was a living replica of Jason's on-base garage for the G-2. A hundred women, all with long blonde hair, G-String bikini's and generous – extremely generous – amounts of silicone enhanced breasts. It felt like a strange trip into the world of living Barbie-dolls.

A soft giggle cooed in her ear. "Don't worry, Princess. All you have to remember is that they are all silicone. It can't be indecent if they aren't real, right?"

Princess let out the smallest cough of disagreement. "Jason … is going to kill me."

"No, he'll just be your slathering dog begging you to take him to the next one," Jill chuckled as she linked arms with Princess and led her towards a muscular and over-tanned individual. "Randy, here is the girl I was telling you about." She shoved Princess in front of her. "Princess, meet Randy."

Randy lowered his sunglasses down his nose to regard her a moment. She could feel his eyes scanning her entire body and suddenly felt quite ill. "Hi … Randy, it's a pleasure," she managed finally when he took her hand in his and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Jill has told me a lot about you."

He gave her a perfect-tooth smile and raised his glasses back up his nose. "As she has you. Tell me, do you model?"

Princess' eyes widened and she quickly flicked her head to look for Jill, who had run off for drinks. "Uh, no. I am not exactly the photogenic type."

He chuckled and threw an arm over her shoulder. "I beg to differ." His hand stroked up and down her arm. "I can organise a photoshoot if you like."

"No … thank you," she responded, perhaps a little more awkwardly than she wanted.

Jill returned with two glasses of an indescribable liquid and thrust one into her hand. "You'd make some good money, Prin. Maybe you can get out of the military and become one of the country's leading Supermodels."

"Uh. "

"Come on, you, let's mingle." Jill dragged her from Randy and led her to the pool. "Now, get those clothes off and let's go swimming. There is a guy over there who is asking about you."

"Jill, I don't feel so right about …" A set of familiar blue eyes caught her attention and she stopped mid-sentence, trying to place them. "Who is that?"

Jill squinted against the sunlight toward the man Princess was looking at. A smile spread across her face and she gave her a nudge with her shoulder. "He's the one who was asking about you. Perfect, instant attraction!"

She took a long sip of the drink Jill had given her and frowned at the stagnant taste of it. "What is this?"

"A cocktail. Don't worry it won't kill you. Come on, let me introduce you to Zoran. He has the sexiest accent that will make you just melt."

Natural curiosity and a sudden tingle in her muscles made Princess follow her friend towards the man who had piqued her interest. He leaned up against a pole wearing nothing but a pair of Speedo bathers that matched the colour of his eyes perfectly. His mouth had a glossed effect that was intriguing, but not as much as the corn-blonde hair that reached down to the small of his back and defied nature by not shifting with the wind. He watched them approach and pulled himself from the pole to greet them.

"Jill, mon cherie, I see you brought her to me." He took Princess' hand in his and dropped his head to kiss her wrist. "Such beauty."

Princess gasped with surprise, and blushed. "Thank you," she said softly, lowering her head shyly.

"Enchanté, ma petite fleur."

"Zoran," Jill announced, "is French-Canadian. You have to be careful, when he speaks his mother tongue, he can trap you more easily than if he used a net."

Zoran gave a deep chuckle, "Ah, Jill, we French are known for our ways of romance and love. That is what draws the beautiful femmes to the French man."

Jill giggled, "of course it is."

Princess' hand was still in his, and she sipped silently at her drink as she watched the exchange between her friend and Zoran. He was most intriguing to her, not so much for the accent and amazing good looks, but for the mysterious aura that seemed to envelop him.

"Are … are you an owner, Zoran?" she managed with little more than a squeak when he and Jill had finished talking.

"Non, ma fleur. I am what you call a scout for new talent for film." He flashed her a smile and ran a finger down her neck. "I am on a constant search for beauty."

Her nerves tingled under his touch, which made her shudder and groan soundlessly. "I expect your search has found many…" she shuddered again when his knuckles grazed at her jaw line, "beautiful women."

"None so much as you, Cheri." His voice lowered, "may I call you Cheri?"

She nodded desperately, "uh-huh"

"Bon," he whispered with a low chuckle, "très bon."

Jill gave a short tsk, and took hold of Princess' arm. "Come on, Cess, let's go and do what we girls do best."

Princess gave a start at the electric shock touch of her friend and looked down at where their arms made contact with a frown. "Jill?"

"I'll return her to you later, Zoran. Excuse us." Jill flashed him a smile and threaded her arm around Princess' to lead her away from the handsome French man.

"Oui, Jill. Let all the other men at this party know that Cheri is to receive my affections only on this day." He took Princess' hand and butterfly-kissed her wrist. "Jusqu'à ce que nous rencontrons encore, Cheri."

Princess blushed and allowed herself to be drawn away from him. Once he was out of sight, however, he was out of her mind. Attentions of a more North American type from less exotic men began, and a new energy she couldn't describe allowed her to enjoy herself.

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Zoran watched her closely, his eyes never leaving her as she giggled and flirted alongside Jill with the sun-bronzed hunks lazing beside the pool.

Her green eyes captured him, so did her athletic physique and her long swan-like neck.

"Monsieur," a beautiful curly-haired woman purred as she held up a glass of red wine to replace the empty glass in Zoran's hand.

Zoran took the glass and set the empty one on a silver tray carried by a young, scruffy waiter. "What an interesting turn of events we have here," he breathed, sans accent, into his glass.

The woman let her eyes flick to Jill and Princess, who were currently riding the shoulders of two young men in the pool in some bizarre game. "Amazing likeness, Sire."

"This Jill." He shifted his eyes to his companion. "She is known to have contact with the Swan, yes?"

"It is rumoured."

He let out a quick breath. "Rumours are all we have, for now."

"Well, if you weren't so quick to execute our inside source …"

He cleared his throat in disapproval at being questioned. "Michele, you're wading through dangerous waters if you think you can question me."

Michele swept her hair over her shoulder and smiled as if undeterred by the threat. She changed the subject quickly. "I don't recognise the woman from the University."

"Then I shall have Mala spare some of her Devil Stars to tail this girl. I will not lose the opportunity to interrogate this woman."

"You want me to continue the search of the University?"

Zoran nodded and stared into the pool as Princess triumphantly raised her arms as Jill fell backwards into the water. "I will triumph over the Eagle and his team, even if I take them one by one."

Michele touched her leader's hand to regain his gaze. "Do we tail her tonight?"

"There will be no need, she is a friend of Jill. She will be easy to find." He finished the remains of his glass and ran his hands over his hair to pull it into a pony-tail. "I must now ensure that the new object of my desire is well looked after."

Michele narrowed her eyes at the girls in the pool, unsure if the feeling in the pit of her stomach was jealousy, dread, or excitement.


	5. Chapter 5

_As a friend, I have to insist that you don't get on that motorcycle. You've had too much to drink, and dammit, Princess this party is only just beginning."_

_"Jill, I really have to go. I've got a job to do, I can't just not go."_

_"God, Princess, it's only a damn University class. You can miss one day."_

_"Jill, really, as tempting as it is I have to go."_

_"You've had too much to drink, at least take a cab. I'll make sure your bike is safe."_

_"I'll be fine, I promise you. I'll take the back streets." _

_"Don't, please"' _

Right about now, Princess was wishing she'd taken Jill's advice and left the bike at the party. Her vision was blurred and untrustworthy. For all that she'd seen in her short life, aliens and beasts, she was sure that the little pixie glow beside her didn't really exist. Of course, that didn't stop her talking to it.

Her conversation with Jill played through in her mind over and over again as she tried desperately to focus on the giant task ahead of her – finding the University and getting there in one piece.

She should have left the bike. From a legal and safety standpoint, it was the only decision she _should_ have reached. Of course, considering the vehicle was valued at over 15 million dollars, and was a G-Force mecha essential to the function of the team and Phoenix unit, leaving it in the hands of a group of playboys/girls who she'd only met hours before, was a foolish decision.

"Help me get there alive, little pixie," she cooed to the light just inside her peripheral vision. She swore she could hear a giggle in response to her plea, and let herself relax and follow it. She knew she was drunk, and was concerned by her state considering she'd had only a couple of drinks. Inside her clouded mind and clouded vision, she could clearly see her own life and future. She felt as though she could answer the world's questions, solve the problems between planets, and end the war.

If only she could see the road ahead of her so clearly…

Her bike suddenly jolted backward with a sudden braking, which made her chest slump forward on top of the gas tank. She 'oomphed' and curled a lip wondering if she'd just hit something. She prayed it wasn't anything that was supposed to be alive.

"Princess?"

She pouted and squinted towards the sound of the voice, wondering when Jason had joined her on her bike … or was fast enough to run beside her. "Jase?"

Jason tilted his head at her hiccupped call of his name and tilted her head up to look into her eyes. Concern creased his face when he saw that her glassy eyes would not focus on him. "Princess, what the hell happened to you?"

She collapsed against him when he lifted her from the bike. "What did I hit? Did I kill it?"

"You hit a curb, and I think it'll survive." He took her to the G-2 and opened the door for her to sit down. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and swayed a little, then hiccupped and laid her head on the back rest. "I just had a little too much to drink, that's all."

He crouched in front of her to take a good look at her state. "Just a little, Princess?"

"I only had four …" she held up four fingers, frowned when she saw eight, then held up two proudly to Jason. "See, only four."

"You're only holding up two fingers, Princess."

She frowned and shook her head, waving her fingers at him. "You can't count? Look, four."

He gave a displeased grunt and decided to play along with her double-vision counts. "Okay, you're right, four. Babe, what were you drinking?" He leaned across her to retrieve the fresh coffee he'd just bought from the local Tim Hortons and held it up to her.

She took it gratefully, "Cocktail, it was green and icky," she gave a shudder for effect. "It's the first time I've ever had …" she sighed and swallowed " … a lump of sugar with my drink though." Her voice turned very matter-of-fact. "That's how they're all doing it these days, you know."

Jason's eyes widened in recognition then narrowed again as he shook his head. "Absinthe? Princess, you know better than that."

She shrugged, the coffee a welcome taste after the few minutes of bile that had crept up her throat when she'd been jolted forward on her bike. "I met a man called Zoltar today."

Jason's head shot up. "What?!"

"Sorry, sorry," she giggled, "I meant Zoran. He is French, very suave."

He closed his eyes and let out a breath. "Come on, Princess. I should get you home before Mark sees you like this. Forget about the mission tonight, you're in no shape for it."

She 'humphed' and shook her head. "Who cares about what he thinks? Besides, this is my mission." She stood and stumbled against him. "Oops," she said with a giggle.

"Princess, I know you don't mean that."

She frowned, "that it's my mission?"

"No," he sighed, "that you don't care what Mark thinks." He steadied her against himself and guided her back down to a sit. "He'll freak out if he sees you like this."

She shrugged.

"Prin, please tell me this isn't because of him."

"No-o-o."

He didn't like the length of the word; it showed too much indecision. "This isn't the way to deal with it, Princess. You know you only need to give him time, he'll come to his senses and tell the Chief to fuck off."

"You're expecting that in this life time?"

"Princess," he growled in warning. "Don't do this."

She gave him a tired look. "Jase, don't worry about me, I'm not going to become a raving alcoholic. I just went to a party with a friend … you know, getting a life?"

"Promise me that, then."

She groaned and stood up, perhaps a little too quickly for her body's liking. She stumbled past him. "I don't believe this. One drink too many and all of a sudden I need rehab."

He rubbed at his brow and inhaled deeply. "Princess, get back into the car, we're leaving. I'll have someone pick up the bike later."

"See you in class, Jason."

He leapt up and toward her, grabbing a tight hold of her wrist. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Princess. Let's go."

She looked at her wrist and raised her eyes to him. "I'm. Fine. Okay?"

"No. You're. Not."

"Jason, let go!"

A static energy began to fire across his hand as she made her demand. Something inside him told him to pull away, and he did so in time to see her become enveloped in a multicoloured light. An apparition of a swan flew past him, which made him jump backward in surprise.

"Oh, shit. Princess how did you activate …" he cut himself off as he quickly looked around the car park for any witnesses. "Shit, shit, shit, shit." When he turned back, the change had taken hold, and Princess looked at him with an expression of confusion, fear and slowly sobering realisation.

"Jason?" she whined as she looked over her gloved arms. "How did I do that?"

"You didn't intend to do it?"

She shook her head and looked nervously around. "No-o-o-o. It just happened."

Movement from behind her startled them both. Jason took hold of her hand and pulled her protectively behind her. "Who's there?"

Mark's voice answered them with a hint of amusement. "I'd kind of hope that the Swan would be able to take care of herself rather than relying on civilians to protect her."

"Shit, Mark," Jason said on an exhale of breath he didn't think he was holding. "Don't be jumping out of bushes at us."

Mark raised a brow as he strolled past the bird-mode G-3 bike. "Is everything alright here?" His eyes shifted to Princess, who had both hands covering her mouth in a manner to suggest she had seen something that had frightened her. "Princess?"

"I think we have to call tonight off, Mark. We have a problem with Princess' uniform."

Mark looked over at her and instantly frowned. She looked pale and unsteady. "Are you feeling alright, Princess?"

Jason stepped in front of him when he tried to move closer to her. "I'm going to take her back to the base, Mark. You'll have to take the bike."

He looked past Jason, "Princess, are you okay?"

She could hear the worry in his voice and nodded. "I'm fine, Mark, just a technical glitch. Jason, can we go? Please?"

Mark didn't like the slurred way in which she spoke. He quickly slid himself in between Jason and Princess. His eyes looked first at the way she leaned against the side of the car, then to her flushed face. "You're drunk?" he asked her incredulously.

"I … I didn't realize that I'd had so much, Mark. I only had a couple."

He frowned at her. "A couple?"

"Mark, come on. Now isn't the time," Jason tried when he noticed that daytime students were beginning to file out of the building.

"Princess I warned you. I told you to not to go out with Jill." His eyes switched to the bike. "And you rode here? God, what were you thinking?!"

Her eyes began to water, and she lowered her gaze and shook her head. "I wasn't. I just knew I had to get here. I just lost track of time." She heard chatter and slid down into the seat to hide herself from the students. "Please Mark, I just want to go home."

Jason put a hand on his arm, "Mark, let me take her home."

Mark slowly closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh of disappointment. "She stays at the base tonight, okay? I'll stay here with Keyop and Tiny. At least part of the team should start this mission."

"Big Ten, Mark." He pushed Princess across to the passenger side of the car and climbed in. "I'll keep an eye on her tonight."

The sigh and nod Mark gave could only be described as one of disappointment. "Thanks, Jason."

"C'mon you little lush, let's get you home to Centre Neptune." He looked up at Mark and gave him a nod. "Good luck in there tonight."

"Without her it' a bust. But we'll push on anyway." He gave a smirk and closed the car door. "Maybe I'll actually learn something."

Jason held off responding in his normal manner. He just gave a nod, put his hand on the sleeping Swan's leg, and slowly drove them out of the car park. Mark watched the car leave and shook his head sadly. If only she understood why…

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Mark stood in the darkened doorway of Princess' on-base room and watched her sleeping in the glow of the blue lighting of the guide-lights in the hallway. He leaned his hip and shoulder against the frame as he debated walking in to either wake her … or join her.

It was a mixture of anger and fear that brought him to her room. The thought of her riding under the influence earlier that evening terrified him. Her machine was powerful and fast, she needed total control to be able to handle any slippery situation that could be encountered on the roads of Toronto, and being drunk was not in control. Anything could have happened to her … she could have killed herself.

He could have lost her.

Why? Partly because he was a damn fool who lacked the balls to argue against the Chief's orders. Oh, he could argue a mission that he felt could compromise the safety of any of his team. He would deny deploying his team without a second thought… But he couldn't stand up and defend the one thing he truly believed in – he and Princess.

It wasn't a wonder to him that she was lashing out at him like this. She was stabbing at him in a way she knew would affect him, with recklessness and thoughtlessness. She obviously knew he could handle her either weepy or angry, but acting in a way that was not only totally out of character, but dangerous? That was something he couldn't handle.

Her ploy was working. He was quickly crumbling against his own pride. He was ready to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness.

Silently and carefully, he peeled himself from the doorway and took a single step into her room. He knew what he needed to do – To Hell with anyone else, the Chief included. He needed her.

His walk was quickly interrupted by a low and unimpressed voice behind him. "Commander?"

Mark looked over his shoulder at the dark void where he knew the Chief was standing. "I need to check on her."

"She's fine."

He took a deep breath and clenched his fists as he turned to face Anderson. "I'm concerned about the technical glitch she suffered this evening at the University. I want to ensure she is, indeed, okay."

"Transmuting hasn't caused any physical nor mental problems to date, why are you concerned now?"

"Transmutations have never been spontaneous before tonight, either."

Anderson stood still in front of Mark, which prevented him from leaving the room and the conversation he obviously wanted to have. "When were you thinking of submitting a report on Princess arriving drunk to an assignment?"

Mark raised his eyes to his Chief and nudged him purposefully out of the way as he closed the bedroom door behind him. "At my discretion, I have decided the matter should be dealt with at team level. Jason and I have handled it."

"You are still required to submit a report to me on the affair. She was sent back to base before a mission that she insisted on doing." He followed half a step behind Mark as he walked down toward the recreation room. "What she did was illegal, Mark. I needed to be informed immediately."

"I said I've handled it."

Anderson was quiet for a few moments, but continued to follow Mark. They both entered the rec room to find it quiet, bar the occasional snore from Jason, who had claimed the La-Z-Boy as his bed for the evening.

"Her blood alcohol level was 0.12, do you realize that?"

"I read the medical report," Mark responded as he retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge. "It was well below our normal tolerance level. In her state, she should have been at .24 or more."

"Drugs are known to alter alcohol tolerance."

Mark's head flicked to Anderson. "There was no evidence of any narcotic in her blood. Immune or not, trace amounts will always be found if we take anything."

"You seem pretty eager to defend her actions, Mark. I hope that isn't because of your affections for her."

He threw his head back and gave a facetious laugh. "I defend Jason in the same way when he gets into trouble. I hope you aren't going to accuse me of an intimate relationship with him, too."

There was a grunt from the La-Z-Boy, "you're too pretty for me, Mark."

Anderson leaned a palm on the ping-pong table that was beside Jason's chair. "You're awake?"

He nodded, wiped imaginary drool from his mouth and sat up in the chair. He pointed to the coffee machine in a silent request for someone to make him one. "With you two barking at each other, not even a deaf man could sleep." He noticed noone had moved to the coffee maker. "Mark, make me a coffee will ya?"

Mark was obviously irritated and remained standing three feet away from Anderson, his arms folded defiantly across his chest. "You've got legs and a heartbeat, Jason. Get it yourself."

Jason rolled his eyes and groaned as he climbed out of the chair. "Do me a favour, Chief. Let the man date Princess. This new found grumpiness of his isn't exactly making life for the rest of us very pleasant."

Anderson flicked a glare at Mark, then shook his head and refocused his attention on Jason, who by now was scratching himself, yawning, and waiting for the coffee maker to produce it's 'gold'. "Rules are in place for a reason, Jason. Mark should have been aware of it before he made moves on his third."

"Rules are also made to be broken, Chief."

"Yes," he nodded in a long-suffering manner. "As you have reminded me repeatedly over the years."

Jason have him a toothy grin and returned to the task of making the coffee. "I can't believe she was drinking Absinthe. Talk about starting strong."

"Absinthe? Absinthe is illegal." Anderson looked at Mark. "What is going on with your third that suddenly she is indulging in illicit acts?"

Mark rolled his eyes, "what do you think?"

"Actually," Jason offered as he returned to the La-Z-Boy with his coffee. "Absinthe has been legal in this country since 2003." He took a sip of the coffee and purred. "Like mother's milk," he groaned in reference to the mug in his hand.

"So what else can I expect her to do before this new found sense of rebellion wears off?"

Mark shrugged, "I don't know, Chief. I agree that I need to discuss this with her to ensure it goes no further. But I disagree that the entire Federation needs to know that she slipped up tonight."

"I don't want her turning into something we won't be able to control, Mark. Remember she's the role-model for millions of little girls out there."

Jason looked between the two of them with a raised brow and tilted head. "Don't you both think that you're making a little too much out of this? She made one mistake … one! I don't see that it's anything beyond losing track of time and a miscalculation in experiencing something new." He shifted in the chair and slouched into the cushions. "She's finally found herself a distraction from G-Force, let's just let her enjoy it. I think she learned a hard lesson tonight. She's not stupid, she won't fall into that trap again."

Anderson nodded and leaned hard against the table. "I'm concerned she'll end up enjoying it a little too much."

"Give her some credit, Chief. This is Princess we're talking about, not me."

Mark chuckled at Jason's comment, "you've got a point. But it's extremely out of character for her to do something like this."

Jason offered his Commander a shit-eating grin, "We all do out of character stuff, Skipper. Would this conversation be taking place if you didn't defy all that is Mark and start dating her in the first place?"

"True," Mark answered with a shrug towards Anderson.

Jason continued. "If it happens again, then yeah, say something. But for now, just let her be all hungover and miserable in the morning … That's sometimes lesson enough."

"That's not exactly the point, Jason," Anderson responded flatly. "She screwed up, simple. She needs reprimand."

Jason shook his head. "I think we have bigger concerns, Chief. She spontaneously transmuted tonight right in front of me. I'm more worried about what will happen if she does it walking down the street or even transmuting out of uniform during a mission." He gave a small flick of the head, "we can't fly without wings, man."

"We're looking into it, Jason. But it's difficult when I don't have a report to go on."

Jason set his coffee mug on the side table and lit himself a cigarette. "You'll get it when Princess is conscious and able do it for me."

Mark rolled his eyes. "You have really got to learn how to type, Jase."

"Hey, I make a mean pasta and she can't cook. We have a simple trade-off, she makes it all pretty and legible for the Chief, I make her a mean dinner."

Anderson sighed heavily and removed his glasses to wipe them with a handkerchief. "Tell me what happened, I doubt she'll remember it."

Jason exhaled a mouthful of smoke to the ceiling. "We were arguing. I wanted to get her back to the base, she wanted to stagger into the University. I grabbed her arm to stop her and next thing you know, she gives me this look – one that she'd normally give Keyop when he's royally ticked her off – then she demanded that I let her go and just transmuted. No rounding of the arm, no transmute command, just swans flying around me and bright lights."

"You manhandled her?" Mark asked slowly.

Jason swept his eyes to him. "Not hard enough to hurt her, just enough to let her know I was in charge."

"Subconscious change?" Anderson offered.

Jason shook his head. "No, she was as stunned by it as I was. I think I could even say it might have frightened her a little … she really began to come to her senses after that."

Anderson nodded, "the bird-styles speed up your metabolic rate, Jason. They'll sober you up pretty quickly."

He grinned, "oh?"

"Don't even think about it. We designed it that way for emergency, in case a call came through when one of you was drinking." He glared at Jason. "That is not a green card for you to regularly test it out."

"Hey," Jason responded with a wave of the wrist, "I have my own methods."

"Her transponderband is in technical at the moment. They'll look at it and check the link up with the chip in her boot and the cerebronic implant. I'm sure they'll solve the problem by morning." He turned to Mark. "You need to get home and get some sleep. I don't want to see you prowling around the hallway in front of Princess' room again."

Jason's brows rose and he gave a chuckle. Mark rolled his eyes and raised both his hands, palms out, in front of him. "I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I'm her commanding officer, I need to know these things."

"Being Commander doesn't give you a right to stalk outside her room. We have medical reports and status sheets for a reason." He pulled himself from the table and walked towards the door. "Mark, Jason, good night."

Jason watched Anderson leave the room and blew out a mouthful of air. "When he ends a discussion, he really ends it, eh?"

"Yeah."

He found the little pink blanket with the kitten on it that Princess had kept since childhood and pulled it over himself. "Stalking Prin, were you?"

Mark closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I almost cracked, Jase. I was ready to climb into bed with her when he caught me."

"You really aren't all that smart, are you?"

"You keep saying that," he sighed. "But do tell me what I did wrong this time."

"If you're going to get intimate with her, don't do it on base." Jason shook his head. "Anderson's the damn emperor of this place. He'll find your ass and kick it in a heartbeat."

Mark ran his hand through his hair. "Nah, he got to me just in time. It was a moment of weakness … an incredible moment of weakness." He smiled dopily. "She's beautiful when she sleeps."

"I know," Jason agreed with a similar smile. "You're a lucky man, Mark. I don't know why you're doing this to her or yourself. Even if you have to be sneaky about it, do it."

Mark groaned and shook his head. "I can't, Jason. I wish I could, I really do." He thrust his hands in his pockets and walked towards the doorway. "Keep an eye on her tonight, please?"

Jason nodded and settled into the chair again in preparation for sleep. "Will do, Mark. But don't give up, we'll think of something for the two of you."

Mark gave him a one-sided smirk and left the room. Jason yawned and kicked his legs up onto the arm-rest. "Night, Mark…

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Princess stirred late the next morning. Waking happened only as her eyes irritated by the strobing light of the halogen hallway lighting shining through flapping curtains. Equivalent in intensity to a bright summer sunshine, the light seemed to want to burn through her eyelids to force her into consciousness. She moaned, rolled over, and pulled the blanket over her face to hide. Unfortunately, the blanket had turned during the night, and it pulled off her bare feet.

She managed a squeal of displeasure and rolled into a ball to satisfy both her cold feet and her aching eyes. The move was unsuccessful. She finally gave up and let out a long groan and straightened herself out on her back. She had one forearm shielding her eyes, the other arm straightened out beside her to clutch painfully at the sheets.

"God, kill me," she complained to whomever might be listening. "Put me out of this misery, please."

"Then how would you learn not to do it again?" a voice answered, she assumed from the doorway.

"Chief?"

She pulled her forearm from her eyes and squinted to look into the doorway. Anderson stood in the centre of the door with a hand in his pocket. It was obvious he was formulating a lecture for her. She could see it in his stance.

"I thought our implants made it impossible to get drunk."

He shook his head. "Everything has a limit, Princess. You exceeded yours on your fourth glass of Absinthe."

"Absinthe?" She sat up quickly in shock, and quickly brought both hands to her head at the sudden rush of blood from her brain. "Oh, God. Tell me I didn't."

"I had your stomach pumped when you came back to the base and passed out," he responded emotionlessly. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't been drugged."

She took a few deep breaths to fight off the gag. "Was I?"

He shook his head. "No."

"So it was just alcohol."

"Absinthe is more than just an alcohol, Princess. It can be classified as a drug."

"But you said…."

"I meant a dangerous drug, one your implants are incapable of protecting you against." He stepped out of the doorway into her room, and paced the floor in front of her. "What were you doing last night?"

Princess frowned at his pacing and the way it made her sway almost hypnotically to follow his movements. "I went to a party with a friend, and…" She felt bile rise in her throat. "Can you please stop pacing?"

He stopped mid-stride and thrust a hand into his side pocket. His free hand began to flick at a click-pen. "You know I have no problems with you and the team getting lives outside of the team. But when it creeps into your active role on the force, I have to step in."

"Like you did with Mark?"

Anderson raised his head to her. His initial gaze was one of surprise, but it quickly faded to one of annoyance. "This is because of Mark?"

"No," she answered carefully, her eyes studying Anderson closely. "This is about me, and what I have missed in the years spent training for the team." Her head rose, but her eyes remained on Anderson. "I want to experience life outside of G-Force. I want to have real friends, and a real life."

Anderson took in her stare and attempted not to feel a little intimidated by it. "Are you saying you want out of G-Force?"

Her eyes widened. "No! What would make you say that?" She rocked herself forward to pull herself to her feet. "I have sacrificed far too much to want to pull out now."

He watched her walk past him to get a towel off her dresser. "This isn't a good habit to start, Princess. Becoming Jason isn't the way to prove a point."

She spun quickly, ignoring the need to hurl at the sudden movement. "Don't speak about Jason like that. He is nothing like you think he is."

"When he gives me reason to…"

"Have you ever, really looked at us all, Chief?" she interrupted as she stumbled backward on to the wall. "Jason is not as troubled as you think he is. He just likes to shake you and Mark up."

Anderson hummed an unreadable answer.

"He's probably the most dedicated of all of us, Chief."

He raised an impressed brow at her. "You know them all very well, don't you?"

"I love each and every one of them, Chief. I would give my life for them all … equally." She walked to her dresser and opened a drawer to pull out some fresh underwear. "Whether I am mothering one, being a confidante, cooking for or sleeping with one, my feelings don't change for them." She turned and spun her panties on her finger. "You ending Mark's and my relationship doesn't change how I feel about him."

"Is that what he told you; that I ended your relationship?"

She rolled a shoulder. "He didn't have to. I know when Mark's talking and when he's talking for you."

"It was still his choice."

She let both hands fall down to her sides and tilted her head away from him. "I expect you didn't really give him a choice."

"He still had a choice, favourable or not." He stopped clicking the pen, and put it in his pocket. "That doesn't explain your actions last night, though. You acted carelessly and dangerously, and had to be pulled from a mission where not only are you the primary, but it was with your insistence that the mission was given the go ahead."

Princess' head dropped submissively. "I know," she answered quietly.

"Your behaviour was completely unacceptable, Princess. You're very lucky that your Commander is insisting on handling this at team level, because if it was left to me, I'd ground you immediately."

Her head rose quickly. "Mark said that?"

"However," he continued, ignoring her question. "If anything of this nature happens again, I will personally override his orders and discipline you myself."

Princess' mouth gaped in mild horror. "I … I promise you it won't happen again."

Anderson walked to the doorway. "I certainly hope not."

"It only takes one time, Chief." Her words were stuttered and forced. "It was a simple error of judgement."

He paused in the doorway with his back to her for a long time. After taking a deep breath, he turned to her again. "Next time, Princess. You might not be so lucky."

She watched him leave the room. When he was out of sight she sat sloppily on the bed. She definitely wouldn't allow another incident like this to happen. Now, she was going to buck up, sit tall, and make sure she was as well behaved as possible.

Jill would have to find her own party friend next time.


	6. Chapter 6

Princess stood quietly in the foyer that lead to the executive offices of the Neptune project. She shifted her weight between both feet in indecision as to whether or not to continue inside to have a small discussion with her commanding officer. The hum of the fluorescent lighting above her head served a minor distraction against the flight instinct, which was enough to make her step backwards towards the elevators more than once.

"_I really can't face him right now,"_ she thought in a manner whinier than she liked. "_What am I even supposed to say"'  
_  
"Sorry I decided to get a life?" She muttered out loud to a passing secretary, who answered only with a look of annoyance. "Well?" She asked in an attempt to draw the woman into a conversation. "Is that really so bad? I mean…"

"I don't have time, sorry," the woman interrupted distractedly as she stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind her.

Princess frowned and spun slowly on her heel to face the blue-lit hallways. "Time to bite the bullet I suppose."

Mark's office was four doors down from the foyer. It served, originally, as a temporary location while the Federation built the tower in the downtown core. When the plans for the new superstructure fell through, the Federation Heads kept him here, in the offices that had initially been the forensic labs. The smell of formaldehyde and burnt chemicals still lingered in the hallways as a constant reminder that the science was more important than anything else to the Federation.

Princess let her eyes scan over every inch of the walls in her slow walk to his office. She felt no need to run in and get this over and done with. It was a simple apology and thank you for covering for her with the Chief. It was just a small informal discussion that shouldn't last much more than a handful of minutes. Even if Mark felt the need to lecture her at all, the longest she'd have to be in there was ten minutes. That was just long enough for her to be able to control her emotions and not be a basket case in front of him … again.

She took a deep inhale and raised her fist to knock on the steel and glass door. Her fist lingered in the air for a moment, then rapped down gently on the glass.

"Come in."

Mark's voice was tired. She picked up on that instantly. Perhaps this would be easier than she thought; Mark was less hostile and pushy when he was tired. With a fresh new smile, she gently pushed open the door and leaned her body shyly around it.

"Hi, Mark," she cooed quietly. "Do you have a minute?"

Mark's eyes rose quickly at her voice. He was genuinely surprised and happy to see her in his doorway. "Princess. What are you?…" He shook himself to shake the surprise out of his voice. "Uh, yeah. I think I can spare a few minutes. What's up?"

She ignored the too casual tone of voice and stepped free of the door. Her hands smoothed over the thigh-high grey skirt she was wearing and her head dipped to the side as she approached him.

"I just wanted to stop by to say thank you." She raised her eyes to meet his. "You know, for sticking up for me with the Chief."

"Oh," he breathed, "that."

"I can assure you that I won't do something like that again."

"I hope not." His delivery was flat and unimpressed.

Princess continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "I still don't know why it happened in the first place. I mean, I don't normally…"

"Princess," Mark interrupted with a raise of his hand. "I don't need to know the hows or whys. Just don't let it happen again."

Shocked initially by his interruption, Princess raised her fingers to her mouth and took step back. She let her fingers slowly curl into a loose fist and lowered her head. "I promise, Mark."

A lingering silence followed her vow. Neither seemed willing to talk or move. A minute after the silence started, Princess decided to make the first move. She turned quickly on her heel and gave him a last look. "I really should …"

Mark's voice sounded the instant hers did. "So how are…."

Princess closed her mouth and let a giggle pass through her eyes. She smiled and nodded for him to continue.

"So how are you, Princess?"

Her eyes widened at the softness of his voice. "I'm doing okay, I suppose," she manageed with a tilted head of thought. "Well, aside from getting drunk and riding home."

Mark pursed his lips and nodded. "Let's try to forget about that, okay?" He rose from behind his desk and moved towards her. As he drew closer, his path changed and he strolled to lean against the front of his desk. "You look amazing."

Princess' eyes widened for a moment in surprise. "Um, thanks?"

He smiled and folded his arms against his chest. "That's a compliment, Princess."

"I know, I just…"

"I don't find you ugly now that we aren't dating. I always thought you were beautiful"

She nodded and kept her head low to study the grain in the wood floor. "I should let you get back to it, Mark. Thanks again for helping me with the Chief. I'm sure he had designs of kicking my butt into next week."

Mark inhaled slowly as she turned to leave his office. While it was what he should let her do, he couldn't help but want to keep her around a little longer. "Princess, wait." It came out hurried and urgent, and he quickly stepped towards her.

Her head tilted in askance. "Yes?" She hoped that her voice didn't sound as hopeful as she thought it did.

He stuttered and seemed panicked before shakily raising his hand to the back of her neck to flip the tag of her shirt back under her collar. His hand lingered on her shoulder. "Your tag was hanging out, I just thought I'd slip it back in for you."

"Thanks," she interrupted as she pulled away an inch. "I should just cut them off."

"Is that a new perfume?"

She nervously swept her hair over her ear and nodded. "It's called J'adore, by Dior. Tiny bought it for me last Christmas, I figured I'd start wearing it."

"J'adore?"

"It's French for I adore you."

"I thought that was J'taime."

She shrugged and smiled. "There are a thousand ways to say I love you, Mark."

His mouth parted slightly as if to respond to the comment. His eyes suddenly darkened and he raised a mischievous brow. "So. Tiny adores you?"

Her head shot up defensively and she shook her head. "No, no. Of course not."

"Then why buy you a perfume that says 'I love you' in the name?"

She frowned and shook his head. She was fast becoming aware that Mark was stepping towards her. She shifted backwards in a lame attempt to ward him off. "He liked the smell, that's all. He said it was a more grown up scent than what I normally wear."

His eyes glistened in mischief. "Uh-huh."

She looked everywhere but at him. "Mark, I…" She became stuck for words when she found her back up against the cold steel of the doorframe. He paused just shy of pressing against her, but let his nose fall into the curve of her neck.

"It's intoxicating."

"Uh … Mark. Commander." Her voice wavered in desperation as her hands sought the door handle to pull herself away from him.

He found to door first and gave it a firm push to close it beside them. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed against her skin as he passed both hands past her waist to press on the wall behind her.

Princess inhaled a desperate sigh as his lips replaced his nose and his body drew closer to hers. "Mark, what are you doing?"

His answer was to trace his fingertips along her waist and down the outside of her thigh.

She knew this couldn't continue and reluctantly struggled to extricate herself from his hold. "Mark, please. We can't …" The remainder of her sentence was cut off by a startled moan as her leg was drawn up around his hip and he pressed himself hard against her.

"I need you, Princess," he breathed longingly against her chin as his lips sought her mouth. "I can't keep fighting this."

That was all she needed to hear. She ended his search by clutching fistfuls of his hair to pull his face to hers. "Then don't." She punctuated her demand by claiming his mouth with hers.

Their connection was heated and desperate. He responded instantly, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as his hips pressed and ground hard against hers. He could have snarled when her leg, held in place by his hand under her knee, suddenly locked taut and trapped him against her. She breathed only in pants, her whole body heaving with each struggled breath. The way that this push shifted her breasts against his chest and the way her tongue moved against his only served to further aggravate his already raging erection.

He had to have her. Now. Here. No arguments. No second thoughts. No regrets.

"Do you want me?" He hissed into her mouth as he fumbled with the leg of her underwear.

"Yes."

"How much?" The question was a demand. Mark had no intention of letting her pussyfoot around. He wanted her to tell him, to fire him on more, to tell him exactly who her 'Daddy' was. "Tell me, Princess. How much do you want it?"

She couldn't exactly respond beyond an incoherent slew of words best left misunderstood. It had been months since Mark was so close to losing control like this. It had happened only the once, after she had almost been killed after being taken hostage for almost a week.

It had been the best night of her life.

The leg of her underwear cut painfully into her skin. Mark had such a tight pull on them that they were close to breaking. The thrill of the dangerous location of the encounter, the chance of being caught, and the painful pleasure of Mark's desperation gave her a sense of mischief that drove any usual inhibitions away. She allowed him to touch and tease her, knowing full well that at any second they could be discovered.

She pushed him just far enough away from her to give her room to free his erection from his pants. She ran the tip of her tongue across her top lip and gazed hard into his eyes as she took him in her hand.

He breathed the only words he could muster.. "Oh, God…"

_ 'To Hell with anything else,'_ his mind chanted over and over as her touch continued. _'To Hell with paperwork. To Hell with training. To Hell with duty. To Hell with the Chief.'  
_  
As soon as the name ran through his mind, Mark's eyes flashed open in horror. He swore he could hear the old man's voice in the corridor. The voice brought home the ramifications of re-starting his relationship with his third.

"Oh, fuck!" He hissed loudly as he jerked himself away from Princess and tucked himself back into his jeans. "Princess. I'm sorry."

Princess was officially mystified. She drew into herself and frowned at her Commander in confusion. "What's wrong, Mark? I thought you wanted this." She took a step toward him.

"You should leave."

Her confusion grew. She touched his arm, and bit at her lip when he pulled roughly away from her and walked to his desk. He had his back to her as he leaned over it and braced himself with both palms pressed flat against the wood. "But Mark…?"

His voice maintained its calm. "Just leave."

"why?" She tried to reach out to him again, desperately wanting to find an answer.

He spun on her and snarled a demand that was as harsh as it was painful. "GET OUT!"

She raised both arms to her chest defensively as she backed away from him. "Why? Why are you doing this?" Her question was asked inside a whisper, barely audible to even herself. She continued to back away. Her backwards steps and posture showed terror, confusion, anger and misery.

The glimmer of a tear in the corner of her eye caught Mark's attention, and instantly he softened his stance and voice to try and prevent her from running off and doing something stupid. "Princess, please."

She shook her head at him and opened the door. "I can't believe you, Mark. I really can't."

"I…"

Princess turned and stumbled awkwardly into the hallway. She was caught mid-fall by Jason, who had been on his way back to the recreation room from Chief Anderson's office.

"Princess, you okay, babe?"

The single most deadly question that could be asked of a woman trying to withhold her tears worked its magic. Princess abruptly burst into angry tears and shoved him away from her. "I hate him."

Jason staggered backward against her shove, but managed to keep his footing. Anderson stood silently beside him, clipboard in hand, one brow raised at her declaration.

"I hate him. I can't believe I thought I was in love with him."

Jason raised a brow and gave Anderson a look. "He must have 'dealt' with the drunk driving thing."

"Oh," she spat as her arms arrogantly found their way into a folded position against her chest. "He dealt with it all right."

Anderson looked pleased. "I hope you will take that as a warning not to do something so foolish in the future, Princess."

Her eyes narrowed in response and she turned on her heel. "I know exactly what not to do in the future, Chief."

****************************

Princess huffed angrily as the elevator opened to the floor her apartment was on. Her mild embarrassment at Mark that had made her storm off the Federation grounds had been simmering safely while she rode her bike home. In the elevator, however, that embarrassment had quickly boiled into anger.

How dare he.

How dare that arrogant, self-centred, sanctimonious, asshole do that?

Those were only some of the thoughts that began to swirl in her mind. They began as a way to remove the blame from herself for the incident in his office, but quickly escalated into a full-blown attack on the man she was slowly beginning to hate … or love … whichever emotion of the two truly existed.

If any of them actually did.

The breath that expelled violently from her mouth as the elevator doors opened was more of a disgusted snort at philosophy trying to break her anger. Something her shrink had once taught her in the face of raw emotion: Analyze the Hell out of it and erase it's existence – If empathy doesn't really exist, then how can you feel it? Emotion is the death of the warrior, eliminate it from your subconscious… Blah blah… Or something like that. She'd been far too focused on the Swallow doing the "Human Blow Fish" on the windows of the doctor's office than on what the session was really about.

Princess rolled her eyes at her own thought processes and marched down the hospital-white corridor towards her condo. She took in nothing visual as she walked, which explained her missing best friend leaning beside her door. She still continued to curse under her breath as she fumbled in her hand-bag for her keys.

"What did he do this time?" A voice purred from beside her. This gave Princess a slight start and made her take a cautious, and quick, step backward.

"What the?" She finally set eyes on her friend and let out her held breath. Her body slumped slightly in time with her exhale. "God, you scared the crap out of me, Jill."

Jill smirked as Princess dug back into her bag for her keys. "You were a million miles away, Girl."

"Yeah," she breathed in response as the keys were found, and she opened the door. "Tough day at the office."

"I take it Mark gave you your tough day."

Princess rolled her eyes as she nodded and waved for Jill to come into her apartment. "So is there any reason why you're lurking in the hallway, rather than magically appearing with a bottle of wine in your hand when I get home?"

Jill gave a small and embarrassed chuckle. "I left my keys at the party last night. I was kinda hoping you'd be back before Zoran got here with my set of keys."

Princess gave an amused shake of the head, then frowned. "You're giving my address to strange men, now?"

"Of course."

Princess shook her head, unable to find the energy to argue. She waved towards the couch. "Just give me a minute to change."

Jill grinned and leapt onto the right side of the couch. Her mission was to get the remote control. "So what did your illustrious commanding officer do to you today?"

"Oh God," Princess' voice moaned through the closed bedroom door. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Princess' poked her head through the doorway and was breathless as she wriggled in to what could only be called a painted on pair of leather riding pants. "It's actually kind of embarrassing."

Jill humphed with a smile and didn't look back as she thumbed the remote to scroll through the two hundred television stations on Princess' satellite network. "There isn't any such word between friends, Prin. You can tell me anything you know. Chances are I've done the same once or twice, myself."

"Beer or wine?" Came the response that was meant to change the subject.

"You have beer?"

"I usually have a few in case Jason stops by."

Jill smirked and waggled her brows. "Any chance of you and he getting together for some good old rebound sex?"

Princess paused in front of the open fridge and let that question work its way through her mind. A shudder answered the question as she retrieved two brown bottles. "That'd be incestual, Jill. He's like my brother."

Two perfectly waxed brows rose on Jill's forehead. "Incestual isn't a word."

"In my vocabulary it is."

Jill smiled and took a bottle from Princess' extended arm, pulling her down to seat in the process. "It was just a suggestion."

Princess twisted the cap off her beer and lifted the bottle quickly to her lips as it frothed up over the rim. Her eyes locked on the television screen and narrowed in disgust. "And you have my permission to turn that shit off."

Jill let out a cough. "Did a naughty word just come out of your mouth, Princess?"

She reached for the remote. "I don't want to watch this."

Jill pulled back her hand to keep the remote out of Princess' reach. She chuckled and jutted her chin at the screen. "But the mighty Eagle is addressing a concerned nation. As an anxious Canadian citizen, don't you want to hear what he has to say?"

Princess noted the sarcasm in her friend's voice and chalked it up to a well-deserved tease. She took a long swig of her beer and slumped in her chair. "It's just the same old bullshit. Kind of like every President and Prime Minister of every country. 'This war is necessary, and we will continue to fight for the freedom of the free world. You must stand behind us'…blah blah." She swung the bottle by its neck from side to side to illustrate her boredom on the matter.

"He really pissed you off, huh?" Jill joked as she slumped back in her seat.

Princess rolled her eyes. "I've just had enough of the self-righteous crap that is his regalness."

Jill's lips pursed and she eyeballed her friend closely. "You need some seriously nasty rebound sex I think."

Princess gasped, "What?"

"You're a girl scorned." She pulled her knees to her chest and adopted a classically girlie gossip pose. "And nothing is better than some sweet revenge nookie to make you feel better." She winked. "You know Zoran will be here soon. I'm sure he'll accommodate you."

Princess was mortified. "What? No! God, no." She shook her shoulders in a forced shudder.

Jill winked over the lift of her beer bottle as she took another swig. She swallowed slowly and smiled playfully. "I'm only playing, Cess."

Princess groaned but smiled.

"But it's worth considering."

"I just can't, you know, think of it with," she turned her head sheepishly to one side. "with anyone else but him." She indicated Mark's image on the screen. "As pissed off as I am… I just can't."

Jill let out a forced sigh of disappointment. It was obvious that she was relieved in Princess' moral stance, but she also wanted to make sure she knew that she would stand behind her no matter what she wanted to do.

Mark's voice softly sounded out of the small speaker on top of the television, talking about the Federation's latest initiative to protect the citizens of each nation's capital city when Spectra next attacked. Princess shook her head and rolled her eyes as she took another long drink of her beer. "Blowing smoke up the asses of the public. That's all it is."

Jill shrugged. "I'll have to trust you on that."

"Maybe I should just quit, what do you think?"

"Don't even toy with that thought, Princess," Jill breathed as her eyes drifted to the image of the Eagle on the television, "give him a little time. He'll come around."

"You sound like Jason."

Jill let out a short sigh, and then sat herself upright in the most receptive manner she could muster. "Okay, Princess. Spill it."

Princess raised a brow. "What _exactly_ do you want to hear?"

"Tell me what's _really_ bothering you."

She gave a roll of the eyes. "Well, duh. Mark of course."

Jill shook her head and downed another long swig of beer. "No, there's more to it. You are completely incapable of remaining this mad at Mark for this long."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're…" She paused before this could turn into a juvenile two-sentence argument. "It's more than just Mark, isn't it?"

Princess closed her eyes and slumped in her chair. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Well, get it out." Jill slid onto the couch beside Princess and draped an arm across her shoulder. "I'm good for at least three hours."

"I guess it's the whole, damned thing."

"G-Force, as in the team?"

"No. The whole, sexist project."

Jill's eyes widened. "Ahh. So, tell me about the whole sexist project."

Princess placed her now empty bottle on the coffee table in front of them. She leaned back with an unfeminine slouch against her friend. "Where to begin? The whole thing is the brain child of a group of archaic old bastards who still think that they are in the bloody twentieth century where women still stay at home all day having babies and primping themselves for their husband every day."

Jill had to let out a laugh, but said nothing.

"I mean, look at me. I have to wear a micro mini-skirt from the 1970's that flashes my panties every time I breathe. My boots are pointless pieces of leather that prove only to chaff my legs and painfully pull and pinch when I have to crouch. My weapon is a yo-yo. A yo-yo!"

"You seem to do okay with it though."

"Oh yeah, only because the enemy are incapacitated by laughter at me coming at them with a yo-yo." She shrugged and snorted. "The enemy has guns, and I have a yo-yo. A bullet can fire at deadly force for a few hundred feet. I have a 20 foot cord."

Jill drained the remnants of her beer and set the bottle down beside Princess'. "Ahh, but the mighty Eagle then comes to your aid, like a Knight in shining armour, to rescue you from the slew of bullets with a toss of his mighty rang."

Princess' brows rose and her lip curled. "You know, that kind of proves my point. Sexist."

"I'm sure most Military establishments are the same way, Princess," Jill offered with a shrug. "They're the last great Men's Club."

"I don't know, Jill." Princess slouched further into the leather couch, her pants creaking with friction against it. "You've heard of the Devil Stars, right?"

Jill was silent for a second, apparently in thought, and then gave a slow nod. "Most people have."

"Well," Princess continued, "look at their uniforms and their missions. Respect…they have respect from their leader. Their uniforms are cute, but have full coverage. Their missions are highly precise and with importance usually reserved for the most elite male forces."

Jill frowned. "Careful, Princess. You sound like you're considering the dark-side here."

Princess' eyes narrowed dangerously. "It might be better than what's in place here."

"Woah," Jill raised her palms in a 'steady, girl' manner. "You could get arrested for saying shit like that, girl."

The look Princess offered her friend was one of pure challenge. "Do you want to report me?"

A laugh crossed Jill's eyes and she shook her head. "I'll pass on that, Princess."

Pincess closed her eyes, cursed herself, then opened them and settled her gaze softly on her friend. "I'm sorry, Jill. I'm really not good company right now. Today was just the most humiliating day in my whole career."

Jill blinked slowly and let a smile form slowly across her face. "We all have days like that, Princess. Might I suggest a big bowl of chocolate ice cream and a bottle of wine?" Her look turned mischievious, "Or how about a night on the town where we can pick up a couple of one-night stands."

Princess raised a single brow. "Is that all you think about?"

"No, but it always gets a reaction from you."

"Of course."

Jill let her eyelids sit heavily in thought. Her voice sounded tired as she spoke. "You know, Zoran seemed pretty interested. Maybe you and him, you know? Let me set you up."

A shy smile appeared and Princess' head dipped innocently to the side. "Oh, no. There's no need to do that. I … I am okay."

There was a knock at the door, that thankfully saved Princess from having to endure any more of the 'I want to hook you up' conversation. She quickly leapt to her feet and over the back of the couch. "Coming!"

Jill rolled her eyes and leaned over the back of the couch to see without getting up if who was at the door. "Speak of the Devil. That'll be Zoran with my keys."

"No offence, but it's wonderful timing." Princess answered as she unlocked the door and slowly opened it. "Because I have University tonight, and I have to leave now." She peered around the door and immediately reddened when she saw the handsome sharp face of Jill's friend. "Zoran." She flicked her head to look back at Jill.

Jill got up on her knees to lean against the back of the couch. She waved for him to enter. "Bon Jour, Zoran. Come on in and make yourself comfortable,"

He raised his head to look at Jill over Princess' shoulder and offered her a smile before he lowered his gaze back to the woman in front of him. "Cheri. How wonderful to see you again."

Princess gave him a shy giggle as he raised her hand to kiss her wrist. "And you too." She slid her arm from his grasp and feigned the most disappointed look she could muster. "And so brief. Please excuse me, but I have to run."

He appeared disappointed. "Why so fast?

"She has classes tonight, Zoran. Cess, here, is a University girl." Jill answered on behalf of Princess. She now leaned high over the back of the couch and leaned against her folded arms. "I'm trying to convince her to take another night off to commiserate with me, alcohol and hopefully a good looking man such as yourself."

Zoran took a step inside the apartment. "And what are you mourning over, Jill?" he asked as he looked intently around. "How can I be of help?"

Jill climbed over the back of the couch and winked at Princess still standing in the doorway. "It's not me in mourning, Zoran." She tipped her chin toward the only other woman present. "This beautiful woman is in the throes of agony after the brutal end to her relationship."

Princess let out a moan and slumped with her head rolled backward. "Drama, thy name is Jill."

Zoran shot her a look of complete surprise. "Your boyfriend let you go?"

Jill leaned in to him. "More than let her go. He cast her aside and flew off in the sunset aboard his shiny white jet."

Princess stalked impatiently toward her friend and narrowed her gaze as she passed her to retrieve her keys from the counter. "No more alcohol or romance novels for you, Jill."

Zoran's eyes rose high. "Your ex boyfriend is a pilot, Cheri?"

Princess nodded. "Yes."

He let out a soft whimper that sounded as excited as it was sympathetic. "Then that explains him setting such a beautiful flower free," he purred as he touched at her hair. "His head is in the clouds."

She tilted shy of his touch. "I would have suggested his head was up his ass," she grunted in a most unladylike and scorned manner. "But your theory works too."

He took her keys from her and curled his fingers around them. "His loss is our gain. May I escort you to your class tonight? Perhaps we may discuss a date in the near future."

She flicked an embarrassed brow and eyes her keys longingly. "A date?" She cleared her throat. "For what?"

He laughed in time with Jill. "Why for dinner, Cheri."

Jill clapped and giggled as she playfully nudged Princess with her hip. "How about tonight after class." She looked at Princess as though she were a secretary confirming appointment dates with her boss. "Your class ends at nine, right?"

Princess looked at her with a stunned and gaped mouth. Zoran, however, was the one who spoke. "I think that would be Cheri's decision, wouldn't you Jill?"

She hooked her arm through Princess' and shook her head. "If you left it to this little procrastinator, then you'd never get a chance." She tightened her hold on her arm. "I'll say yes because I know she needs it and because you're too good a catch for her to pass on."

Princess reddened. "Jill!"

Zoran smiled widely. "Your social coordinator, Cheri?"

"Apparently." She held out her hand for her keys. "But really, I do have to go. It was lovely to see you again, Zoran."

He held her keys out of her reach. "Oh I would not be a gentleman if I did not offer to drive you in my limousine to your school."

Princess tipped her head and shrugged out of Jill's hold. "I appreciate your offer and am very flattered, but I should get myself there." She reached up for the keys and stumbled into his chest when she overreached for them. Her stumble, and ineffective save, made her fall to one side. She was quickly saved as Zoran caught her with his arm. Partially tilted to one side and only supported by his grip, she clutched at his shirt and stared weakly up at him. "Sorry, clumsy me."

Jill giggled and leaned down enough to look Princess in the eye. "You have a new hero, Cess." She raised her eyes. "And this one is far smoother than your last one."

Princess rolled in his grasp to find her steadiness and stepped backward using her hands against her chest to determine the safest distance. "I don't need another hero,' she breathed. "Heroes are no better than the enemy."

Zoran tilted his head at her. "This man, your ex-hero, he is not a gentleman?"

Jill shrugged. "Oh he's a gentleman. He's also an idiot."

Princess smiled and tipped a shoulder to her ear. She used the motion to turn herself away from Zoran. "Which makes me the fool for falling for him in the first place."

"Ahh," Zoran hummed quickly. "One cannot blame the heart for the choices it makes, Cheri. If it were always right then there would be no passion. Passion does not exist without hurt. Hurt does not exist without love. Love. Love holds hands with hate."

"Okay." Princess sang with difference. "I can't say I agree, Zoran. Mark and I had passion without hate or hurt."

There was a glimmer in Zoran's eye at the mention of the Eagle's name. "Mark?" At her nod he smoothed his hand over his hair. "Tell me, Cheri. Did your Mark give you passion consistently, or only when it counted."

She found herself considering the question intently for a long moment. Her consideration silenced the room. Initially she didn't find her answer, at least not until the voice of Mark filtered toward them from the TV. The answer flew into her quickly, although she was reluctant to admit it. "I'm not going to answer that question." She feigned a coy smile. "I don't kiss and tell."

Zoran smiled. "Ahh, Cheri. Your indecision is your answer." He took both Princess' and Jill's hands and led them to the door. "We both know I'm right."

"And so confident," Jill muttered playfully with a wink at Princess. "Not to mention exotic."

Princess narrowed her eyes at her as if to issue a silent threat. "Anyhow, it has been nice, but I do need to get going."

"Yes," Zoran agreed. "I will escort you both to the university. Cheri will complete her class and then we will all spend the remainder of the evening out on the town."

Jill gave a thrilled squeal. "Oh take us to your club tonight, Zoran. I have heard great things about it."

"You will be my VIP guests," he promised with a look toward Princess. "Will you grant me the pleasure?"

Princess bit her lip and looked at the excited face of her best friend. If she denied the request, she knew she'd ruin Jill's night. "How can I say no?" she asked in partial defeat. "I obviously won't have my bike, and I'll have no other way of getting home."

Zoran smiled in self-congratulations. "Then it shall be, my two beauties. I will be the envy of all men tonight."

Jill's voice lowered as she clicked the door shut behind them and walked hand in hand with Zoran down the hallway. She appeared to have concocted a devious plan in her mind. "At least one man, anyway."

Princess heard the darkness in her tone and gave her a warning look. "Jill?"

Jill wrestled her hand free and threaded her arm around Zoran's waist to nestle in to his side. "What?"


	7. Chapter 7

Mark had a definite sinking feeling that this evening wasn't going to go exactly as planned – well not so much as _planned_ as how it _should_ go as per mission parameters. He still couldn't believe what had happened inside his office. There he was, a man so touted for his self-control and sacrifice for the greater good, falling into egoism and self-indulgence.

He didn't exactly know what it was that made him fall to her like that. He wanted to put it down to basic habit. To Slide into a passionate role with Princess was not something that was entirely difficult to do – in fact it was extremely natural and even autonomous – but it was something he had to develop some kind of _control_ against if he was to continue with Anderson's plan.

Control.

That was something he was losing more and more with each passing second.

He didn't let the analysis linger for too long in his mind once he found a position next to Jason in the car park at the University. He did, however, seek some form of reprimand from his second as he folded his arms and leaned his rump against the warm hood of the G2 civilian vehicle.

"Jason. If I ask you to will you punch me across the face?"

Jason half-choked on his cigarette; it wasn't often he got such an attractive request. "What did you do now?"

Mark inhaled long and slouched heavily. "Do I really need to explain it to you, or will you just trust me that I need it."

"That takes the fun out of it," he muttered as he flicked the butt onto the asphalt. "Lessens the impact – so to speak."

"How about if I order you to do it?"

Jason shrugged. "Then chalk it up to one of those orders I'll ignore." He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back heavily. "So. What happened with you and Princess in your office today?"

"What makes you think it has anything to do with her?"

"Because _everything_ in the last week has been about her."

Mark pursed his lips in irritation and blew out a breath of air. "I screwed up big."

Jason nodded in an uncharacteristically flippant manner. "You're getting good at that."

Mark looked up at the arrival of a large black limousine and tilted his head curiously at it. "Well. I'm going to fix it, Jase. I've determined that the Chief's orders are far more detrimental to the team than Princess and I falling in love."

Jason thumbed his nose and smirked. "I can't believe it took you a week to work that out. So much for _your_ tactical genius."

"Do the words bite me …" he paused with a caught breath as he watched Princess step out of the limousine. "What the?"

Jason's brows were similarly raised. "Well that's a little different to the bike. Did Anderson change her vehicle too?"

They both looked on as Princess giggled toward a man that climbed out of the car behind her. Princess definitely appeared somewhat bashful in her innocence, as she acted more shy than normal. She even reddened as the man kissed both of her cheeks and slid his hand down her arm to loosely take hold of her hand. She giggled again as he slowly raised her wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

Mark's expression fell in to a dark glare. "Who is he?"

Jason's head tilted as he took in the long corn-blonde hair of the stranger. "I think that's the million dollar question, Skipper."

Princess covered her mouth and giggled as she made a theatrical effort of separating herself from her new friend. Mark's attitude seemed to darken as she brazenly tilted her hip and turned to walk toward them. "I guess she moved on."

Jason shook his head quickly, but shortly. "I wouldn't be so fast to make that assumption. Maybe he's just a boyfriend of Jill's."

"If I know anything about women, Jason, it's that they don't share well."

Jason chuckled. "Not when it comes to their men, anyway." He pushed himself off the car as Princess approached looking somewhat flushed. "Hey, Princess."

She fanned her hand in front of her face with a smile and looked over her shoulder as the limousine pulled past them. She was breathless as she spoke. "Hi Jase."

Mark didn't wait for a hello. "Who was that?"

Princess ignored him and smiled as she petted her pocket for her lip-gloss. She directed her attention toward Jason. "So. What's the plan for tonight?" She gave up on the search for gloss and lifted her arms over her head to lengthen her body in a stretch as she let out a girlish moan. "Tell me it's an interesting class."

Jason's eyes fell to chest level, and a shimmering array of pink rhinestones that spelled out the word _Princess_ across her breast. "Lecture, Prin," he corrected softly. "It's an acting thing I think."

Her eyes flashed wide. "Acting?" She let out a short giggle of surprise. "Well. That _is_ interesting."

"Boring," Mark offered from behind Jason. "But it is one of the common classes that binds the missing and murdered girls."

Princess didn't appear to hear him. "I guess all the girls must've been in this class."

Jason flicked a brow at her so obviously ignoring Mark but didn't comment as he settled back onto the hood of his car and cupped his hands over his face to light a cigarette. "That's what the files said anyway."

Mark frowned from where he was slouched. "So, Princess. Who was that guy?"

She said nothing in response as she winked at Jason and stole the cigarette from him. She turned her hand to draw back a long inhale. She smiled as she raised her head and pursed her lips to blow out the smoke. "Jill and I are heading out after class tonight, Jason. You feel like coming along?"

Jason drew in a long breath and hooked his heel atop the tire to rest his forearms on one knee. He ignored her question to ask one of his own. "So do you want to fill us in on who your new boyfriend is?"

"Oh him?" She asked without hesitation. "He's." Her lips pursed as if to hide a smile. "He's a friend of Jill's." She looked intently at the glow of the end of the cigarette. "And someone I find absolutely fascinating."

Jason preempted Mark's question and, knowing that Princess was likely to ignore it anyhow, asked. "Just how fascinating, Princess? How much do you know about him?"

"Well I know he's a great kisser," she admitted with pursed lips and a sly smile. "And he's very, very handsome."

Mark's eyes narrowed and his lip curled, but he chose to stay quiet. Jason, on the other hand, let her know his displeasure. "Just how long have you known this guy?"

She looked guiltily upward. "I met him yesterday at the party."

His eyes flashed. "Yesterday? Don't you think you're moving a little fast, Princess?"

Her eyes opened wide as she shifted her jaw in annoyance. "I've known you to lock lips … and other body parts … with girls you met only minutes beforehand, Jason." She set her hands on her hips and slouched. "At least I held off for twenty four hours."

Jason gagged. "What?"

Mark's reaction was somewhat more aggressive. "Twenty four, Princess?" He barked by way of interruption. "It wasn't even six hours ago that you were with me in my office."

She finally registered his presence and narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, well perhaps I needed to find release after you fired me up and left me running." She set her hands on her hips. "Maybe I needed someone who was capable of finishing the job."

Jason raised his hands and stepped in between the two of them before Mark could spit back a response that might not so easily be taken back later. "Woah you too."

Princess laughed and stepped around him. She let her gaze sweep past Jason's face before she settled a fiery glare at her Commander. "Maybe I need a real man."

Mark lowered his face, but glared hotly at her in return. "Is that supposed to upset me, Princess?"

She shook her head. "No. It's designed to inform you that you're inadequate." She eyed him up and down in disgust. "Seeing you don't seem to care about anyone else's feelings but your own let me reciprocate and tell you that I don't particularly care how that revelation makes you feel."

"Ouch," he retorted flatly in as facetious a tone as he could.

Jason stepped in again. He pressed his hands into Princess' chest to lightly push her back from Mark. "Come on, Princess. We both know you don't mean that."

She visibly winced as his push against her breast sent a sharp pain through her chest. She slapped his hand away and covered her breasts with her forearm. "Damn, Jason. Not so hard, okay? That hurt."

His head angled to one side. "I barely touched you, Prin."

She drew her other forearm across her chest and frowned at him as she contracted just slightly into herself. "The hell you didn't."

Mark's head ticked into a low angle as concern pressed away all frustration. "Are you alright?"

She heard the sudden softness in his voice and fought the usual urge to pout out her bottom lip and invite him to cuddle her. Something inside her growled to the surface, however, and she found herself spitting out something rather uncouth. "Yeah. I guess my new lover is a little heavy handed with the girls. I must have been enjoying it too much to notice." She grabbed at them with her hands and backed up a few steps.

Mark didn't read into her tone of voice and almost timid trek backward like Jason did. While Jason's head tilted in worry, Mark reacted harshly. He spun and slammed the butt of his hand into the window arm of the G-2's front passenger window and swore before he stalked off toward the main lecture pavilion.

Jason watched him leave and curled a lip at the stunned woman beside him. "What the hell was that?"

She blinked and shot her eyes wide open at Mark's retreating form. "He's mad."

His face opened up into an expression of incredulity. "Ya think?" His arms opened up in front of him in question of her standing in front of him. "What the hell is going on with you, Princess?"

Her eyes blinked and widened again. "Jase, I don't know." She slid her gaze to him and appeared almost frightened of herself. "I don't know where that came from. Honest."

"What is happening to you, girl?" he questioned in a tone that was half pissed off and half worried. "You're jumping into bed with strangers .."

She shook her head quickly. "No, Jason."

"Oh don't tell me he's not a stranger."

She frowned and looked down at her hands. "No. Not that." She looked sheepishly back up at him. "I haven't jumped in to bed with anyone."

His head dipped as he looked back to Mark then back to Princess. "Then what was that all about?"

She looked as though she was ready to cry. "I don't know. I just…" She took a breath. "I haven't kissed Zoran, nor slept with him. I am just so mad at Mark that…"

"That you knew it would hurt him just to say it," he finished with a low voice of disgust. "Princess, that's a dangerous game to play."

She winced and inhaled so shakily that her bottom lip drew into her mouth. "I know." She looked at him and seemed to shrink. "I just hate him for what he's doing to us."

"You ask me," he said softly. "I'd say you're the one making this difficult."

She slid her eyes toward him and tilted her head aggressively at him. "I'm not the one playing yo-yo, Jason." He pointed at Mark with her whole hand. "I'm not the one coming on to him and then backing off last second."

His brow flicked. "Is that what happened?"

She nodded and hugged herself. "He's pushing and pulling again, and I'm just sick of it." She took a breath and blew a shot of air out of the side of her mouth. "He won't make up his mind, so I'll have to try to make it up for him."

He shook his head and softened his voice as he finally registered her confusion. "He'd already made up his mind, Princess. Before you came barreling in here like a harlot on ecstasy he was going to blow the Chief's orders and take you back."

She winced. "God."

"God doesn't seem to be a reliable friend to you right now, Princess."

She gave a short breath of a laugh. "Which is why I have you." She loosened her hold on herself and inhaled an extremely deep breath. As she tried to speak along her exhale she suddenly felt light headed. She moaned as she swayed on her feet. "Jase…"

He caught her before she could fall and dragged her toward the hood of the G-2. "Princess, Honey. You okay?"

She whimpered and held her forehead in her hand as she slowed her breathing. "Yeah. Yeah."

He took a look at her face and the ashen tone it had taken on. "You don't look so good." As she swayed and struggled to focus on his eyes he shook his head. "I'm calling Mark."

She clutched at the front of his shirt and looked pleadingly up at him. "No, Jase. I'm okay, I promise."

"No you're not," he growled as he looked at Mark across the car park and raised his wrist to his mouth. "Commander, we've got a problem."

Mark answered smoothly. Jason could see that the Commander had finally raised his head to look at the two of them at the car. "What now?"

Jason stared across at his team leader. "Princess isn't well. I have to get her to med."

She groaned. "No, Jason. I'm okay."

Mark's voice filtered in to the conversation. He was slowly walking across the car park toward them; she could hear it in the words. "What's wrong with her?"

"I'm okay," she assured as she stood quickly. Her eyes widened as she felt a build up of pressure shoot up through her chest, her throat and then into her head. She gagged as she felt the pressure release through her widened eyes, and then stumbled forward into Jason's chest.

Mark was at her side in an instant. "Princess?"

She leaned forward and pressed her head into Jason's chest as she clutched at his shirt with both hands. "I stood up too quick," she moaned.

Mark didn't buy it. He raised his gaze to Jason as if to ask permission, and threaded his hands in between Jason and Princess to pull her free. He held her at the upper arms and ducked his head to search her face and eyes. "What's wrong?"

She found herself pulling back from him in such a manner that she seemed to want to curl up into a ball. "Nothing, Mark. I'm fine. I just stood up too quickly."

"Not both times," Jason challenged.

Mark looked up at his second. "What happened, Jason?"

He shrugged in genuine confusion. "I don't know, Mark. One second she's okay and the next she's falling over."

Mark's grip on her arms lightened. "I'll take her to Neptune for a check up with the med staff."

"I'm fine," she assured softly. "There are several perfectly reasonable explanations for lightheadedness that don't require medical attention."

He shook his head. "I'm not taking that chance, Princess."

She pulled to get out of his hold and grunted when he refused to let her go. "I'm fine, commander. Just let me go and we can get inside." She tugged against him again. "We have a job to do."

"Negative, Lieutenant," he growled a somewhat patronizing manner as if to remind her she was a few ranks below his. "I am taking you back to Neptune. With your transmutation problem last…"

He barely got the word out before a sudden charge took over her body. A hologram of the Swan's visor shimmered across her darkened features and he found himself drawn into her transformation field.

"Jason!" he called in panic as he found himself completely unable to let go of her.

Jason simply stood, stunned, as he watched Princess transmute before him. The front half of Mark's body shimmered with his own Eagle birdstyle that was transparent on top of his jeans and number one shirt.

The image was hauntingly spectacular to the Condor. The flicker of the birdstyle over Princess' body, coupled with the half-transformation of Mark's uniform only on the parts of his body caught up in the light field was a vision he'd only imagine in a Japanese Anime or the most expensive CGI film.

Jason found himself breathing out in awe as he took a mental photograph of the moment.

And then it was over.

Mark jerked back as if expelled by the exsanguination of the light field. Back to his civilian attire, he rubbed at his forearms as if in pain. "Jesus. What just happened?"

Princess panted heavily and seemed none-the-wiser that she was now in full Swan glory. Her shoulders heaved over her hunch as she glared through her visor at him. "I said I'm fine, Commander," she hissed darkly. "I might not have your rank, but I certainly have more medical training than you do."

He looked up at her with an actual fearful expression. "No, Princess. You need to go back to Neptune."

She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. Her eyes narrowed at him. "Listen closely, Commander. I. Am. Fine. I don't need you locking me up in med. because I had a little dizzy spell." She took a deep breath. "It happens from time to time."

Jason took hold of her hand and held it in front of her face. "I think this is more than just a dizzy spell, Princess."

Her eyes shot wide at the sight of her white gloves. She immediately looked herself over and then smoothed her gloves over her uniform as she looked up at Mark. "I didn't do that. I didn't make the command."

"I know," he said worriedly. "I didn't even know what happened until I got pulled in to your field."

Jason looked down at his own communicator. "I think something's wrong with the implant, Mark." He looked at his commander. "With the mood swings, odd behaviour, the dizziness and now this," he swept his arm up and down Princess' side. "It's the only explanation."

She shook her head. "No. No it can't be a malfunction. I only had diagnostics done on it a couple of weeks ago – it was functioning well within its specifications."

"Well obviously it isn't now," Jason muttered.

Princess looked to Mark as if to seek salvation. "I don't want to have to go through testing again. Mark it's painful."

"I know," he agreed. "But we have to."

Her face scrunched up as she shook her head. "No. No. I'm not going to do it." She fumbled with the clasp of her communicator. "Just take the watch, Mark. I can live without it."

"Sorry, Princess. It's part of the uniform, you have to wear it."

"Then I don't want G-Force," she snapped brattily. "Take it."

Mark extended a hand in an attempt to try and calm her. "Princess. Come on. Stop being so dramatic…" He gasped as she finally managed to unclasp it and threw it to the ground at his feet.

What should have happened at that point didn't. There was no sudden light show or flickered de-transformation to civilian clothing. Princess still stood as the G-Force Swan before her two commanding officers. Her head was lowered with her eyes focused on the watch on the bitumen between Mark's feet.

"Tell me I'm in black and not pink," she whispered softly. "Please."

Mark slowly crouched. "I'm taking you back to Neptune." He dropped his hand to pick up the communicator and let out a yell as it shot him with an electric zap. "What the?"

Jason crouched beside Mark and reached for the device himself. He pulled back with a wince as it zapped him, too. "This. This isn't good, Skipper."

He agreed. "No it isn't."

Princess crouched and gingerly tickled her fingers along the bitumen toward the communicator. It glowed with brightening intensity as her hand drew near before expelling a thin tendril of blue electricity that snaked around her wrist as if asking to be clasped back in place. "What's happening?"

Mark watched her gently as she snapped the apparatus back onto her wrist. "I have to ground you, Princess."

She nodded as she finalized reattaching the communicator. Immediately her body jolted with another uninitiated transformation. Within a heartbeat the wings, boots and skirt were gone, and Princess was left standing in her leather pants and jeweled shirt. Her eyes shot up to Mark. "It's getting worse."

Jason threaded his fingers through hers and pointed at the lecture hall. "Mark, I'll get her back to Neptune."

Mark shook his head. "I'll take her."

Jason opened the car door. "I can drive faster than you, Skipper." He helped Princess into the car and shot a glare back at his Commander. "With the way the two of you are behaving, you'll probably end up killing each other before you get to base."


	8. Chapter 8

Princess slouched on her couch in a position of both annoyance and worry. Her transmutation concerns and the resultant order for testing were the key issues on her mind as she flicked through the Satellite stations in search for something decent to watch. Wednesday evening viewing being somewhat sub-par until the later hours of the night, she'd not found anything beyond the latest attempt at revitalizing an old 1980's sit-com.

So Knight Rider it was.

She slouched into what was probably more a lying down than a seated position in the chair. Her chin had quite easily nestled itself inside her collarbone and her ass had officially found the edge of the cushion. She was in imminent danger of sliding off onto the floor, but gave little thought to that as she watched K.I.T.T. transform into a different car on the screen in front of her. The cinematic transformation gave her more thought to her own problem.

She honestly didn't know what was up with her uniform. The transponder band analysis had come back clean. There was no malfunction between that and the chip in her shoe … or _shoes _as it were. The only viable explanation she could think of was that it could be the new civilian attire she'd chosen to wear. Perhaps the technicians had been too rushed to put it together.

A reasonable option would be for her to put on her old jeans and shirt, again, but she'd found the jeans a little too snug. Which was hardly surprising given hers and Jill's indulgences over the past several days. A fast sneak around the Internet had given her the caloric levels of the wines, beers and spirits they'd shared, and so she vowed to just work out extra hard over the next few days to try and burn off all those extra … energies.

If she could find it, that is.

She felt honestly drained of energy of late. Again, it was something to be put down to her vibrant friend's presence. Jill, having worked the bar for most of her adult life, had become somewhat nocturnal. She seemed to thrive on the nightlife and the industry of alcohol and tawdriness. Princess had a day job; she simply couldn't handle the going out all night and then working the next day thing.

She slid her back along the back of the couch, left one foot on the floor, and raised the other one to hook up over the back of the couch in a splayed and definitely unladylike position.

"I am so getting too old for this," she moaned to herself as she laid one forearm across her eyes.

Jill's voice appeared from out of nowhere. "Oh please don't say that, 'Cess. You're so much younger than I am."

Princess smiled, but didn't remove the arm from her eyes. "I didn't hear you come in."

Jill swept her hand along the back of the couch to push Princess' leg down, and leaned her forearms down in its place. "You're in another world, girl." She slouched lower to assess her friend's condition. "I heard from Mark about what happened at the school tonight."

Princess groaned. "I am so sorry I didn't call you. Jason got me out of there so quick that I think I left my brain behind."

Jill gave a laugh and shook her hand in a "forget about it" gesture. "Good thing that Mark is on the ball then. He phoned me probably just as Jason left to tell me he'd grounded you until further notice so you wouldn't be joining us."

Princess slid the arm off her eyes and blinked quickly at the glare of the light above Jill's head. She spoke even as she tried to get her eyes used to the light. "And I bet he had that self-satisfied tone of voice, too."

Jill angled her head and seemed to frown a little in thought. "No, actually, 'Cess, he sounded really worried." She swept her hair over her ear and then settled herself back into her slouch. "I know that Commander of yours well enough to pick out when he's faking it or not, and he was definitely faking it tonight."

"Faking what?"

"Faking being a Commander."

Princess slowly drew herself to a seat and petted the cushion beside her to invite Jill to sit. "How do you mean?"

Jill climbed over the back of the couch rather than walk around. She slid heavily into a seat beside her friend. "Well. You know, he tried to sound like he was being his usual stoic and matter of fact self, but you could really hear his concern." She petted Princess' knee. "That man still loves you, girl."

Princess sighed hard. "And I him – But he was the one who said he didn't love me so…"

"He said that?"

Princess nodded. "Yup."

"Are you sure you just didn't misinterpret something?" She was obviously stunned by this revelation. "I mean, Mark may claim to be the master of the spoken word, but I've seen him screw it up from time to time."

She shrugged. "No misinterpretation, Jill. He said it, point blank. "I love you, but I'm not in love with you"."

Jill groaned and palmed her forehead. "Oh he is such a liar."

Princess rolled her head on the backrest to look at her friend. "All the more reason to back off and away from him."

"Meaning?"

"Well," Princess began in as honest a tone as she could. "If he can pull a lie like that to my face, then what else is he capable of twisting?"

Jill's brows were high and she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as though uncomfortable with the idea. "I never thought of Mark as dishonest."

Princess looked up at a barrette in Jill's hair and sighed. "He's not."

"But…"

"But I don't know," Princess conceded. "I'm so muddle-headed right now I don't know what I'm thinking or doing."

"Ooh," Jill teased through pursed lips. "Is that really a good frame of mind for the explosives genius on the G-Force team?"

"Apparently not," Princess groaned as she pressed her hands into the cushion to push herself to a stand. "I've been indefinitely grounded." She snatched the remote from the coffee table and angrily flicked off the television. "Grounded from active duty, but am still expected to show up for training, for testing, and blah blah blah."

"Such is life," Jill offered as she drew herself to a stand. "Especially yours. But, Princess my darling Royal Highness of thigh high boots and micro mini skirts. I think I have a solution to tonight's quandary."

Princess looked over her shoulder at Jill. "Let me guess. Dump the Communicator at the door, put on something sleazy and go out drinking?"

Jill waggled her brows and winked. "Oh you read my mind well." She drew a line along Princess' shoulder with her fingertip as she strode past her. "But keep the watch handy, will you? Who knows if we might have to call Jason for a late night pick-up."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

The club that Jill had managed to drag Princess too was something a little more energetic than Princess had thought it would be. With a long line-up at the door that extended well beyond two city blocks, and high security at the door, the place seemed to be the hottest location in town. She was surprised, then, when Jill led her past the line and straight up to the front door for entry. The large bouncer, who looked as though he had overdosed on steroids, looked down over his folded arms as they approached.

"Line is over there," he grunted in a disinterested manner.

"We're guests of the owner," Jill said playfully. "Jill and Cheri."

"Ahh yes," he answered with a sudden smile. "He's expecting you both. You're to be escorted to the private lounge upstairs."

Jill gave an excited squeal, whereas Princess merely looked around cautiously. Jill took her friend's hand and nestled in to her side. "Oh you wait until you see inside, 'Cess. You'll die."

Princess gave a nod as a young, slim, and gorgeous woman dressed in an immaculate business suit approached and asked them to follow her. She held on a little tighter to her friend. "I've never been in a place like this, Jill. It's so …"

"Awesome," Jill finished for her. "Oh, 'Cess, they've kept you so tightly sheltered."

Princess giggled timidly. "For good reason I think."

"Oh don't be silly,' Jill purred as she took herself a step ahead of Princess to walk the stairs. "All they've managed to do is having you fishing off the Federation pier and then getting into trouble because of it. Had they let you run out and explore, then … oh." She paused as they reached the top of the stairs and entered an immaculately decorated and plush room full of beautiful people. "Gorgeous."

Princess' eyes gaped open at the deep rich purples, magentas and reds in the room. Everything looked as though it were velvet. All the wanted to do was touch and snuggle into everything. "I want to say it's gaudy, but it is just incredible."

Zoran's smile beamed through the crowd at their arrival. Immediately he was on his feet and practically glided along the air as he approached them. He took hold of Princess' wrist and kissed it softly in greeting. "Cheri. I did not think you would make it here tonight. Jill told me you were unwell and were sent home from your class."

She angled her head and watched as he gently threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her into his side. "It's an illness I seemed to have recovered from."

"That," he purred with a smile, "is worth celebrating." He took hold of Jill's hand and led them to a purple velvet couch. There were three people already occupying the seat, and they immediately moved as Zoran approached. He tipped his head to a wait girl. "You will bring champagne for my two honored guests. The best in the house, on my tab."

Jill giggled much like an excited schoolgirl around Zoran's chest at Princess. "Isn't this great?"

Princess couldn't help but feel somewhat apprehensive. While she certainly didn't immediately recognize anyone, she got an uneasy feeling about the absolute submissiveness of everyone in the room where her host was concerned. She took lead from Jill and Zoran and took a seat only after they had done.

"This is an amazing venue," she said dutifully to her host. "I don't think I've seen anything quite like it."

He drew a stemmed glass of red wine to his lips and let the lightest roll of the glass splash a mere taste across his mouth. He licked at his lip with his tongue and seemed to purr at the compliment. "That was my intention when I submitted my plans, Cheri. It was to be like nothing on this world."

Jill raised her eyes as the waitress set a steel ice bucket on the table and poured them both a glass of champagne. "It has a very Kasbah feel to it."

Zoran raised a brow. "You may need to explain that description to me, Jill."

She giggled. "All you need to do is bring me a hookah pipe and you'll be living the description."

Zoran gave a laugh. "I have no idea what that is, Dear Jill. But I will take your words as a compliment." He watched Princess' lips purse as she sipped at her champagne and looked around the room. "Are you uncomfortable, Cheri?"

"I'm feeling inadequate," she admitted shyly. "There are a lot of beautiful people here."

"Only to look at," he muttered in a dark tone. "For now I am fashion, and that tends to bring the superficially attractive people." He squeezed her hand. "You and Jill, you have the beauty on the inside."

Jill laughed. "Which is a polite way of saying we're ugly."

"Never," Zoran assured. "You are both of a beauty that none can compare to."

Jill had to laugh as she drained her glass and leaned forward to pour herself another. She leaned over to refill Princess' glass. "Drink up, Princess."

Princess half-frowned as she looked into her glass, but drew back on it anyhow. As she watched her host's glossed lips purse to sip from his glass, she began to feel a sudden unease. There was something just a little unreal about this venue that she simply couldn't put her finger on.

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Two and a half hours into their evening, and Jill and Princess had managed to drink through three bottles of expensive champagne. Princess wasn't sure if it was the electric buzz of the alcohol in her muscles or a genuine intuitive sense, but she couldn't shake the feeling that her new friend wasn't exactly everything he was playing to be.

He was an attentive host, and an affectionate individual to say the very least. At no point did he leave the two girls alone, and made sure that their every need was immediately met. He had taken Princess to a point where confusion and question simply merged with drunkenness. The concerns she may have held at the beginning of the evening of the venue were waning in time with her inhibitions, but her slight unease of Zoran still whistled about her.

It wasn't until Jill had suggested inside a whisper in her ear that she might have just been finding excuses for her attraction to him, that she had let her suspicions fade. Zoran was friendly, he was handsome, and she did find herself wanting to sit that little bit closer to him. Perhaps it was just that she was so used to only finding attraction for Mark that she was misreading herself.

It was when he leaned in to her, held her chin with his thumb and forefinger and pressed his lips against hers in a soft kiss that she fell in to him. She let her lips part slightly against his as if to invite him further. It was an invite he immediately accepted and within a heartbeat she found herself engulfed in a deep kiss that seemed to reach far enough into her that she felt instantly ill. Mark's face flashed into her mind and she pressed her hands against his chest to push herself away from him.

His blue eyes stared questioningly at her, but did not seem to show annoyance. "Are you alright, Cheri?"

She nodded and pressed her fingers to her lips to press out the tingle of their connection. "Yes. I'm okay."

"Is my kiss not to your liking?"

Her eyes widened in complete embarrassment and she shook her head as she felt the flush hotly rise through her cheeks. "Oh no, I mean, yes it is. I mean." She dropped her head. "I just need to use the ladies room."

As bad an excuse as it was, it seemed to work. He gave her a genuine smile and nodded toward the back wall. "You will find the facilities through there, Cheri."

She wanted to ask Jill to accompany her to the washroom, as per the women's code, but was halted in the request as she noticed her friend on the knees of a man in the middle of a seriously intense make-out session. Her blush deepened as she took her attention from it and excused herself.

It took every ounce of her control not to crash to the floor as another of her dizzying spells rushed up through her body and into her head. She took a couple of slow breaths and clutched at the couch until the feeling passed.

Zoran noted her blanching and touched at her hand. "Cheri?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head to regain her equilibrium. "Phew," she breathed with a faked smile. "Just how much have I had tonight?"

Zoran gave a laugh. "Obviously not enough for you to recover like that. Would you like an escort?"

She rolled her eyes and genuinely smiled. "This is something I think I can manage on my own." She shot a glare toward Jill and made her way to the back of the club.

She didn't take a lot of notice as to the markings on the door she finally stepped through, but the décor on the other side of it was vastly different to what she had just left. The corridor was dimly lit, with white walls and a pungent odor of what she assumed to be urine, it looked like a parking lot stairwell.

"Definitely not the ladies room," she moaned to herself as she turned to get herself back in to the club. As her hand found the handle and she gave a tug, she was mortified to find that the door had locked behind her. "Oh great," she moaned as she staggered on drunken legs back against the wall. "Where am I now?"

With a breath that sounded along the lines of a slurry groan, she turned and wandered cautiously along the corridor. It was dim and felt damp around her. She found herself running her fingertips along the brittle and peeling wall if only to keep her balance.

She was tempted, right now, to call Mark or even 7-Zark-7 to give her some intel on this specific location. The further she walked down the corridor, the uneasier she became. The dampness around her thickened into an acrid smell of urine, stale beer, sex, and wet dog. It took all of her training to stifle her gag-reflex at the soup of smells around her. The fight against retching dizzied her further and she had to pause and press herself into the wall in order to remain even a fraction focused.

"Oh Mark," she sighed in needy breath. "I wish you were here right now."

Her mind chided her for the comment, but her drunkenness rebutted the reprimand with a lurid excuse of desire for a seedy encounter in a dirty locale rather than a need for protection. The war between mind and drunk made her actually chuckle. The amusement offered her a snippet of stability and she found herself able to continue.

As she reached the end of the corridor, which was actually a lot shorter than it had appeared, she found a solitary door. The door had an obvious panic bar feature to it, and she knew if she stepped through it she would likely be locked from that end too. She cast her eyes back to the first door and she had to shrug.

It was better to be locked out there than in a smelly, filthy, corridor.

Before she could press her palms into the panic bar, she heard a low growl from the darkened corner. She immediately shot her gaze to the growl, which was enough to offset her balance enough to stumble against the wall.

"Who's there?" She questioned in as brave a tone as she could muster. "I warn you, I'm…" She coughed as the growl drew closer and a brown and black Pit bull dog slowly emerged from the darkness with its head down and its lip curled.

She let out a shaking and partially relieved breath. "Good doggie. No need to get all mad, I'm a friend of your daddy's."

The dog stalked closer and within a couple of seconds another emerged from the shadows.

"Oh," she managed softly. "There are two of you."

The two dogs stood side-by-side and seemed identical as they growled their authority and stalked slowly toward her. She ticked her head to one side and focused a stare at them. Training years ago had taught her that so long as you remain steeled on a dog, they'll rarely attack – she really hoped that the theory was correct as she took a timid step backward.

"Nice doggies. Nice, nice doggies."

There was a thud against the door and a sound that Princess drunken mind seemed to interpret as a woman in distress. She immediately took her attention from the dogs and looked up at the door. It shifted as though tugged on from the other side.

"Hello?" She called, suddenly ignorant to the canine threat in front of her. "Do you need help?"

There seemed to be a muffled sound to the affirmative, and Princess found herself immediately moving toward the door. "Don't worry, I'm coming," she yelped.

The dogs disagreed. As her foot left the ground to run, the first dog charged. It knocked her to the ground with a hard bump of its head into her thighs. She hit the ground and felt the stinging grip of the dog's teeth around her wrist. She let out a sharp cry as the second dog ran in after her throat.

She rolled her shoulder to rotate her body on the ground in escape and called out a drunken, desperate plea for her Commander to help her.

He did not arrive, but the swan seemed to do so. Without command or even thought, the transmutation sequence flashed across her. The change was violent enough that it caused her body to contract inward as she dry-retched with wide opened eyes.

The whimper of the dogs at their expulsion from her field of change was unheard over the honk of the Swan ringing in her ears. She tried desperately to breathe and clawed hopelessly at the ground as she waited for the sequence to end.

And finally it did.

Her breath flew into her as pants. She had tears in her eyes as she shuffled on her backside toward the wall to seat herself in the corner. She covered her eyes with her gloved hands and let them slide up into her brow to rest her head in her hands. She listened for the dogs at the other end of the hall and tried to shuffle further into the wall behind her, only managing to slide her boot along the dirt on the floor.

The dogs were okay. They were at the other end of the corridor licking at themselves in defeat.

She slowed her breathing and dropped her hands to hug at her knees. "This is nuts," she whined to herself. "What is happening?"

Her mind fell back to her initial concern before the dog attack. She listened hard to see if there were still noises from the other side. The movement on the other side of the door had stopped. "Are you still down there?" She asked timidly. "Do you still need help?"

At the silence she wondered if she had simply imagined the voice and the knocks. The idea made her swallow hard and she clenched her eyes tightly. "I'm losing my mind."

She let out a breath and rounded her arm across her face. "Transmute," she called to cancel the birdstyle.

Nothing.

"Transmute," she called again, this time with more command in her voice.

Still nothing.

"Transmute. Please, God Transmute."

The lack of illumination that was expected from a changing sequence caused the young woman to let out a frightened sob. She should never have gone out this evening. She should have just stuck with the orders and stayed at home like a good and obedient little girl. She slowly raised her wrist to her lip with the intent to call for help, but gasped at the red staining through white as her wrist bled from the dog bite.

"Oh dear," she moaned as she tugged down the glove to survey the damage. "Taken down by a dog – how utterly humiliating."

The bite was deep along her wrist. There was a perfect impression and puncture marks from the dog's teeth. Whilst the punctures were deep, however, the damage was relatively minimal. She tugged the glove back up and sat back against the wall, wrist in her hand, in the most dejected manner possible.

She barely flinched when the door opened and Jill's head popped around it. She simply looked up at her friend and poked out her bottom lip much like a hurt child. "Mark's going to kill me."

Jill's entire face lit up in horror at the sight of Princess slouched and bloody on the floor. She slid around the door and fell to her knees in front of her. "Princess! Jesus, what happened?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Jill." She inhaled shakily as she peered to the end of the hallway. "I got lost."

Jill looked around in fear. "What? Why are you in uniform, 'Cess? What happened?"

Princess screwed up her face and shook her head. "I don't know. One minute I'm walking and trying to find a way out, the next I'm in battle gear fighting off dogs."

Jill suddenly lurched forward as the door opened and pushed her onto her knees in front of Princess. She immediately shoved her back into the door to halt the entry of whomever was there. "Just give us a minute, okay?"

Zoran's voice purred from the other side. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," she stammered as she tried to find a way to get Princess out of there without being seen as the Swan. "Just. You know, girl thing."

He was heard to chuckle. "I will wait until you are ready, ladies."

Jill managed to latch the door back into its locked position. "Princess. You need to call Mark or Jason to get you out of here."

She hiccupped to agree and rocked onto her knees to draw herself to a stand. She still held on to her wrist. "Looks like it." Before she could call for help, however, her body lurched forward and then back toward the wall as the change took hold again. Inside a moment she was back to civilian clothing.

"What was that?" Jill asked with wide eyes. "Is that how you change?"

Princess shook her head and curled her injured hand into a curl as she brought it to her chest. "Not exactly. I'm supposed to command it, but it's just doing it on its own."

She sighed and wobbled slightly on her knees. "No wonder Mark is so worried. If that happens to you during battle …"

Princess sighed a brattish huff. "Yes, I'll blow the whole mission, won't I?"

"I think he's more worried about what'll happen to you, 'Cess, than anything else."

She slid her back up the wall to make it to a stand and shook her head. "No. The mission and the team are his main concerns, as individuals we're secondary."

Jill gave a huff and shook her head as she pulled down Princess' hand to look it over. "That's not true, and you know it." She knocked on the door. "Zoran, darling, we're ready."

He opened the door widely to let them out and gasped when he saw the blood on Princess' wrist. "Cheri! What happened to you?"

She looked up guiltily. "I got lost and ran in to your guard dogs. They did their job."

He put an arm over her shoulder. "Then you come with me and we will look in to fixing that," he promised firmly. He flicked his fingers to a wait girl. "Make sure Cheri has the strongest beverage in the house, will you? Bring it to my quarters."

Princess tugged herself backward rather urgently. "Your quarters?"

He frowned in chiding. "For no other reason than to assess your injury. I will not make advances to one so obviously in pain." He nodded to Jill. "She will be with us, Cheri. I promise you no more than treatment."

He led them both through the doorway into a den-style office to the right of the private room. As elaborately furnished as the room they had just left, this area was both an office and a boudoir. The desk was an ornate solid-wood mahogany masterpiece, and the four-poster circular bed in a matching shade of mahogany with black and purple velveteen bedding on it.

Princess found her brow rise high at the corner of the room so obviously crafted with illicit activities in mind. "My," she whimpered. "This is a very interesting room."

He sat her on the bed and smiled as he wiped at her wrist with his handkerchief. "Very few have privilege to see it, Cheri. You should feel honoured." He raised his eyes to look cheekily into hers.

Jill ignored the play and sat down beside Princess. She took out her cell phone and thumbed through its phone book. "I'll call Mark and have him pick us up."

Zoran's brow flicked high and fast. There was almost panic in his voice when he spoke. "There is no need to do that, Jill. I will have the two of you taken home in my limousine." He cast his gaze back to Princess, who was admiring him with soft eyes. "To call the ex-boyfriend is to admit defeat."

Jill's lips pursed. "Not so in this case, Zoran." She shared a look with Princess. "Isn't that right, 'Cess?"

Princess focused on Zoran so gently attending to her injury and nodded absently. "Sure. Sure."

Jill initially gasped in shock at Princess' breathed and lacking response, but quickly smirked as the wait girl entered the room with a strong beverage. "Mmm," she hummed softly. "Then perhaps it can wait a little while longer."

Zoran smiled and passed across the drink to Princess. "Allow me to make up for the behaviour of my creatures. I assure you it won't happen again."

Princess' eyes widened, but she threw her head back to shoot the drink in a single gulp – she hoped it might take out the sting of the alcohol Zoran was cleaning her wrist with. "I won't go wandering again."

He laughed. "Next time perhaps you will accept my offer of an escort to the ladies room." He dropped the bloody handkerchief onto the tray held by the wait girl. His eyes rose slowly up at her. "You know what to do with that, Miss, don't you?"

She gave a nod and quietly left the room.

Princess shuddered as the alcohol warmed her inside and offered her best friend a lazy and renewed drunken smile. "Once my new hero has patched me up, how about you and me hit the dancefloor?"

Jill actually frowned at her. "Don't you think we need to get you home?"

Princess smiled and flippantly shook her head. "Oh no," she purred. "I'm just beginning to feel good again."

Jill's eyes dropped down to Zoran. "Just what was in that drink?"

He smiled an almost dangerous grin. "Just something a little special for someone special."


	9. Chapter 9

It was another two hours before Jill was finally able to convince Princess that it was time to head home. By that stage it was three in the morning and at least an hour later than the legal cut off limit for alcohol service in Toronto.

Zoran had offered, quite insistently, that the two of them utilize his private quarters for the remainder of the evening. While Princess seemed absolutely up for it, Jill wasn't so keen on the idea. She was not happy with the idea that Zoran may have tampered with Princess' drinks. She was less happy that the man was unwilling to let her know exactly what it was that was going in to those drinks. She'd done her best to keep any further beverages out of Princess' grasp, but knew she hadn't been able to keep track of all of them.

Her best friend had now taken a swift liking to the suave French-Canadian, and the very idea of it now panicked her. Sure, she had initially been all for the idea, and had done her best to encourage it, but now that the urging had worked, Jill began to dislike the pairing more and more.

It had been tempting to notify Mark or Jason immediately about the situation. Both of the boys would absolutely have Princess appropriately chided and sent to bed with no supper, but something inside her really wanted to let Princess just up and enjoy life for a while.

Quite basically, she was torn. For all the mean and nasty things that had left her mouth regarding the G-Force Commander over the last week, Jill really liked him. She just happened to like Princess more and said what she thought her best friend wanted to hear while she was in the throes of heartbreak. Mark honestly was the best man for her, he would never do something so underhanded as spike her drinks – or even let her continue to drink after such a messy encounter with rampaging dogs.

Three times succeeding the medical treatment in his room, Jill had intercepted possible romantic interludes between the pair at the club. She knew Princess well enough to know she wasn't in complete control of her facilities and would be horrifically embarrassed to know she was teaching her lips to touch those of a man that was not Mark Anderson.

Her thoughts were knocked out of her mind as Princess stumbled and knocked in to her as they strolled down the street toward the apartment complex. Her brow flicked and she smirked at her drunken friend. "You are so wasted," she muttered inside a chuckle.

Princess giggled and tried her best to act in control as she puffed out her chest and walked slowly. "Nope. I'm not drunk at all."

Jill laughed. "Liar."

Princess put on a mock scowl and tripped on her own feet as one of them managed to turn in almost sideways mid-stride. She stumbled into a passerby and giggled her apologies. "Oh, so sorry." She staggered back and grinned at her friend. "Oh, Jill. What a fantastic night."

Jill pursed her lips and gave a nod. By now she was fairly sober, having spent the better part of the previous few hours attempting to keep an eye on Princess. She played along though, if only to make sure Princess' night ended as it should – with a smile on her face and good memories. She giggled in as drunken a manner as she could. "You are such a little hussy, 'Cess, hitting onto Zoran like that."

Princess' eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands. "I did not."

"Oh you did too."

Princess giggled playfully. "Wow. What I have missed being part of the bird-squad." She skipped to hide another stumble and spun a wobbly pirouette. "This is living."

"No," Jill sang softly. "This is just momentary fun."

Princess dipped and walked backward to keep a step ahead of Jill and to keep looking at her. "This is not just fun. This is…" She spun again. "This is exhilarating."

Jill smirked. "You won't think that in the morning."

Princess swayed as if dancing. "Who cares about tomorrow?" She stopped and let her eyes sparkle in the streetlights. "We should live for today." Her head tilted in an excited teenage manner. "Let's go find somewhere else to play."

Jill shook her head and pointed her hand at the doorway to the apartment complex. "How about we call it a night so we can recharge for tomorrow. You have to be at the base in a few hours." Her lips pursed in a tired smile. "Have you forgotten you're Earth's heroine and need to train and stuff?"

Princess looked immediately downtrodden by the reminder. "Yeah, that."

"Oh," Jill sang again. "Did we forget about our day job?"

Princess toyed with her communicator. Her voice sounded somewhat sober. "Yes. That."

Jill rubbed at her arm and opened the door for her. "Oh don't sound so disappointed, 'Cess. You're the envy of every woman on the planet." She nudged her as Princess walked by her to enter the building. "And don't forget the mental plaything of all the boys."

She scrunched up her face. "Well maybe I don't want that anymore."

Jill froze in place, her hand still on the open door. "Don't say things like that."

Princess removed the link from her wrist and dangled it between her forefinger and her thumb in front of Jill's face. "Why not? Everyone else is allowed to quit their jobs and move on to better things. Why not me?"

Jill snatched the communicator from Princess fingers and grabbed her friend roughly by the upper arm. "You're drunk," she snarled in disgust. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." She tugged her toward the elevator. "Now let's get you to bed and you can think about it in the morning."

Princess slouched on the button panel inside the elevator car. "You sound like Mark." She huffed and folded her arms across her breast. "Don't do this. Don't do that. Think about what you're saying. Blah blah blah."

Jill reached around Princess to punch at a floor button. "What. You think that you'll leave G-Force, hook up with Zoran and live happily ever after as a drunken little tramp?" She took a step back and adopted much the same slouch as Princess. "Well it doesn't work that way. Zoran is a player, simple. He won't even throw you your clothes after you've had sex the first time and he looks for his next screw."

Princess' eyes flared in anger. "You don't even know him."

"Neither do you," she challenged. "Hell, Princess. All you've ever known is G-Force and Mark. Not all guys are like them, you need to realize that."

Her eyes narrowed. "Well maybe it's time I found out."

The doors to the elevator opened and Princess stalked out. She narrowed her eyes and paused when she realized they were on the wrong floor and held her hand on the rubber stopper of the car doors to stop them closing. "Wrong floor."

Jill took a deep breath and rolled her head on her shoulders. "Oops. My bad. Looks like we made it to Mark's floor instead of yours."

Princess heard the forced error in Jill's tone and set her hands on her hips. "Deliberate bad, Jill? Are you trying to get Mark for yourself, or are you hoping to rat me out ."

Jill glared and threw the communicator at her. "I just think you really need to talk to him. Now,"

Princess' head ticked to one side. "It's three in the morning. He's asleep."

"Then wake him up."

"No."

Jill blocked the car door and Princess' escape. "I said go wake him up and talk to him."

Mark's voice graveled from an open door. "I'm awake."

Both girls gasped and spun toward Mark's doorway. While he may have claimed to be awake, it certainly didn't look as though he was. He stood with his hands gripped on either side of the doorframe as though to hold himself up. He wore nothing but a drawstring pair of soft pyjama pants in a blue tartan pattern that looked as though they must have had better days. His hair was mussed and matted and his eyes were a blurred mess of blue and red that appeared to be held open only by sheer desperate will for consciousness.

What the man obviously needed was a large cup of coffee and a hairbrush.

Jill offered him a smile. "Good morning, Sunshine."

His glare spat back a rebuttal that his mouth refused to provide and then switched to a swaying Princess. "Is there a problem?"

Princess scratched at her ear, cleared her throat and staggered forward. She took hold of his hand and slapped her communicator in it. "I quit."

Jill growled from behind her. "Don't be so stupid, Princess."

Princess spun to her friend and gave her a disgusted look. "I'm not the stupid one."

Mark's head jerked as his mind slowly became aware of what was happening. He glanced down at his hand and then slid his eyes to the warring women in front of him. "You've been drinking." He didn't hide the annoyance in his tone when he stepped out into the hallway and opened the door wide. "Both of you inside, now."

Jill flicked her hand at him. "I don't need to be here for this conversation. She's all yours, Mark."

"No. I think you should be here for this conversation," he growled. His eyes then switched to Princess. "Inside now."

Princess shook her head. "No."

"That's an order."

She took a step forward. "I just tendered my resignation, Commander. You don't order me any more."

He lowered his face to hers. "I haven't accepted your resignation. Even if I did, you still owe me two weeks. Now get inside."

Princess flicked a glare toward Jill, but strode in as she was ordered. "Yes, Commander," she hissed.

Jill shrugged and followed behind her. She actually felt minor intimidation from the scruffy and barely awake Eagle leader, but did her best to hide it behind forced nonchalance. She took a seat on a ratted old cloth armchair and flicked her finger on a tear on the armrest.

Mark closed the door gently behind him and kept his face toward it as he took a deep breath. "So. Talk to me," he said smoothly as he peeled himself from the door and strode toward the fridge for a bottle of water. "What's going on?"

Princess slouched on his brown leather couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. "You're the observant one," she muttered childishly. "You tell us."

Mark let out a gruff breath as he took a seat beside his third. He passed the bottle to her. "I really don't think you want to hear my current analysis, Princess."

She snatched the bottle from his hand and slouched as she wrapped her hand around the neck to open it. "Let me guess. Rehab candidate?"

He shook his head. "I was thinking more along the lines of a spoiled brat."

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled at the assessment. "Which makes you what?"

He leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs at the knee. "I'm sure you have your own suggestions, but that isn't the problem right now." He held up her communicator. "This is."

She eyeballed the watch and resisted the urge to swat it out of his hand. "Do you need a letter to go with that?"

"Can you please just shelve your attitude for a moment, Princess?" He took her wrist gently in his hand and clasped the bracelet back in place. He didn't release her hand; instead he threaded his fingers through hers and held them tight. "Can't we just have one conversation where we don't insult each other?"

Princess flicked a look up to Jill, who seemed close to sleeping in her chair, and then rolled her head on the chair back to look at him. "We can try I suppose." She shook her hand free of his. "But I make no guarantees."

"Understood."

She looked at his eyes for a long moment before her drunkenness swirled his face from her vision. She cleared her throat and winced as her mind spun with erratic images of her evening. She quickly drew back from her water bottle as though its contents would immediately sober her. "Mark,' she managed mid-swallow. "You really hurt me."

His ear was on the couch back and his body was partially twisted toward her so to watch her intently. "I know, Sweetheart. Trust me. I hurt me too." He made to take her hand again, but drew back when she pulled from him. "But that's no excuse for what you've been doing lately."

She rolled her eyes. "I haven't been doing anything," she rebutted in a whine. "Aside from the mistake last night…"

"One hell of a mistake, Princess," he interrupted shortly. "You could have killed yourself."

She nodded. "I know, Mark. Don't think for a second that I don't regret that move, because I do." She inhaled softly and looked away from him.

Mark angled his head to watch her expression. She seemed absolutely exhausted. "I suppose violating direct orders isn't cause for concern to you?"

Her eyes flashed open. "Excuse me?"

"I grounded you, Princess, and unless the meaning of that order has changed recently, that means you are to stay indoors …"

"I will not be caged," she growled low. "I refuse to be a prisoner to the birdstyle."

"When you spontaneously switch and change in and out of uniform, Princess, you have to be." He leaned forward and dropped his leg from its cross to set his forearms on his knees. "What if a Spectran goon saw what happened? What if they see, they learn who you are, and then they tail you home?" His head slowly rolled from side to side in the air in a very measured and controlled shake. "What if you fall out of birdstyle mid battle? You'd lose your body protection and could be killed." He took a deep breath that had a definite tremble to it. "Fortunately Jason and I have been there for each of the occurrences. At least we can protect you."

She drew in a breath quickly between her pursed lips, but said nothing.

To Mark, however, her silence spoke volumes. He slid his gaze toward her and analyzed her wide eyes and pout. "Unless there have been more times that I'm not aware of." He watched her eyes roll guiltily. "Have there been more occurrences, Princess?"

She kept her eyes wide and tightened her lips into an O shape as she shook her head. "No."

"No? Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," she breathed slowly.

Jill's voice graveled in from her place across the room. "Liar."

Mark's gaze shot to the woman on his trusty old armchair. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep – obviously she was good at faking it. "You know of other instances, Jill?"

Jill finally opened her eyes in curled into a ball to face Mark. "Tonight at the club." She smiled. "It's the first time I've ever seen her in Swans-style. And the change, wow."

Mark gagged with enough force to throw his chest forward. "What? In a club full of people?" He spat a glare at Princess. "What is wrong with you? This is why I told you to stay home."

Princess shrank a little at Mark's glare and voice. She shakily hooked her hair over her ear and shifted her shoulder as if to pull away from him. "It wasn't in front of anyone. I was in a corridor when it happened." She pulled up her legs to hug her knees. "I was alone at the time." She raised her eyes to his. "I was going to call you, but…"

"But, what?"

"But I was injured and…"

Mark's expression switched from pissed off to concern. "You're hurt?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "I'm okay. I got bitten by a dog." Her eyes widened again. "A very big and ugly dog." She shrugged innocently with a pout. "But Zoran fixed me up."

At the sound of his competitor's name, Mark's gaze narrowed. He tried not to appear jealous when he spoke. "How bad is the bite?"

She brought her arm across and displayed a perfectly bandaged appendage to him. Through the white, blood was apparent. "It's nothing much."

Mark took her hand in his and began to unwind the bandage. "Let me be the judge of that. You're half off your brain with alcohol…"

"And drugs," Jill cut in blandly.

Both Princess and Mark's heads rose at that. It was Princess, however, who voiced her disagreement. "I did not take any drugs, Jill."

She spoke through a yawn. "Yeah you were. Your precious Zoran was spiking your drinks."

"With what," Mark asked hotly.

She shrugged. "I don't know, he wouldn't tell me."

"And you didn't try to stop him?"

"Yes I did," she snapped. "I spent the better part of two hours trying to stop her from drinking, stop her from jumping into bed with him, and get her out of there."

Mark was royally pissed. "You should have tried harder."

"Do you want to try and control this little fireball when she has her mind set on something?"

He slid off the couch and stood as he folded his arms across his chest. When he spoke, his voice was dark. "I've never had any problem with it."

She let out a laugh. "Oh you call the last week control, Commander?"

"That's different."

"Not from where I'm standing. You have more control over Jason than you do Princess right now."

His mind prepared a carefully phrased rebuttal to her charge, but was halted mid-composition when a snore broke in through the conversation. Both Jill and Mark looked toward the couch to see Princess lying half on her side and half on her chest across the couch. Her feet were awkwardly angled on the floor and her arms straight down either side of her body. Her mouth was wide open to allow her every breath to escape as a loud snore.

That very image of the normally pristine and ladylike Princess brought chuckles to both Mark and Jill.

"So very elegant, isn't she," Jill quipped as she slid off the chair and onto her knees so that she could crawl along the floor to steal Princess' water bottle. "The absolute epitome of femininity."

Mark let her words shove out the last of his irritation and he let out a long and cleansing breath. "Jill. What am I doing?"

She swallowed a mouthful that felt too large for her throat. Her voice creaked as it escaped. "Being Mark."

He smirked. "Falling straight back in to the old routine of messing it up."

Jill leaned her chin on the coffee table and looked upon her best friend with a gaze that said she found her somewhat gross to look at. "Nah. You never messed it up. You just stumbled through it." She kept her chin on the table, but put her hands on the floor. "This time it isn't you. She's the one screwing it up."

"I'm in love with her, Jill." He said it quickly, as if the feeling would be lost if he didn't immediately get it out.

She smiled. "I know. Hell I knew before _you_ did." She seemed to consider the idea a moment. "In fact I think most of the free world knew before you did."

"I'm going to lose her."

"Probably," she muttered as she brought the bottle to her mouth for another drink. "Unless you grow a set and tell your Chief to suck it up."

He let out a defeated breath and laughed. "Jason said the same thing."

"Oh," she groaned in mock pain. "Jason and I on the same thought wave? How utterly devastating to hear."

Mark chuckled and stooped to slide his arms underneath Princess. With a soft moan of effort he slid her into a more comfortable position and threw a throw rug over the top of her. "So tell me what happened tonight."

Jill stretched and yawned wide enough to elicit a soft burp. "Well. As far as I can tell. Princess got lost in one of the back alleyways to the club. She bumped into a couple of gnarly dogs and presto chango, Swan-Time."

"So you weren't there?"

She shook her head. "I was taking my turn in acting like a tramp. When I found her she was huddled on the floor in her Swan-gear. We were talking, and I was assessing her injury and in a second she changed again."

"I wish I knew what was wrong," he muttered softly. "Why is she all of a sudden so out of control."

Jill tilted her head and stared at his back as he ran his fingers down Princess' cheek. "Out of control in general, or just of her uniform?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, but didn't say anything. Instead he removed the remaining bandage from Princess' arm and checked it over.

The pattern of bruises and puncture marks gave him a shudder of recognition. He held her wrist as he leaned back to the table and swatted his hand through a small collection of files and papers. "What do you know about this club, Jill?"

She raised a brow at his search for a file. "It's owned by Zoran Villeneuve. He's a part time talent scout for adult film, and all around smooth talker to the girls."

"Zoran," Mark asked low. "As in Princess' Zoran?"

"Oh I wouldn't say she has claim to him, Mark. He might be good for a rebound thing, but not for much else."

He had to ask. "Has she rebounded with him?"

She grunted as he found his file and quickly flicked through it. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask me that question."

He smiled in relief. "That's a no." His relief quickly turned to serious business when he found a post mortem photograph of a woman's wrist and held it against Princess.

Jill blanched. "Oh that's just disgusting, Mark. What is it?"

Mark didn't seem to hear the question. "Does this Zoran guy have any ties to York University?"

Jill pursed her lips in thought. "Not directly."

He spun to her. "But there is a connection?"

She cowered underneath his stare. "Well there are rumours that he has someone court girls from the acting classes to take part in films. But that's just rumour."

Mark raked his hand down his face. "And now he's courting Princess."

Jill heard the worry in his voice. She straightened up and set her forearms on the table in front of her as she let her eyes scan some of the grisly photographs. "What are you saying, Mark?"

He didn't answer her. He lifted his wrist to his mouth. "G-Force Commander to Centre Neptune, 7-Zark-7."

The robot answered immediately. "You're awake early, Commander."

"I never sleep," he droned. "I need you to gather some intel for me."

"Go ahead," Zark chirped obediently. "What do you need?"

Mark's eyes shifted toward Jill. "I need you to find out everything you can about club owner Zoran Villeneuve. He is the owner of the club…" He dipped his head in a silent request for her to provide the club name.

"Oh, yes. The club is called "lumineux l'un."

Mark's brow flicked and he slowly repeated the name into his communicator.

"Is that French, Commander," Zark asked.

"I believe so."

"When is this information required?"

Mark let out a breath. "As soon as possible. Please arrange with Chief Anderson and the other members of G-Force, excluding Princess, to meet for briefing at oh-nine-thirty this morning."

As Zark announced his copy and that the transmission was out, Mark pressed his hands into the tabletop and cursed quietly under his breath. "Jill. Tell me how you know Zoran."

Her head tilted with worry and question. "His people contacted me about franchising Jill's. They paid for me to fly out here and attend various meetings and seminars about it." She watched him wince and touched at his arm. "Mark. Is something wrong?"

He grabbed at her hand and turned to her. "Promise me that you will stay away from all of them from now on."

"Why, Mark?" She read the panic in his eyes. "You're beginning to scare me."

He shifted his hands to her upper arms and held her protectively before him. "Just promise me, Jill. I need you to and Princess as far away from him as possible."

She immediately reddened in embarrassment. "That might not be so easy."

"I can keep Princess otherwise occupied, Jill. Don't worry about her begging you to go out."

She shook her head. "It's not that, Mark." She began to fidget. "He knows where she lives."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," she pleaded softly. "When I saw how well the two of them got along, I invited him over to see her." She felt his grip tighten on her arms. "He doesn't know who she is, Mark. I promise you that."

His hands tightened slightly more on her arms, only releasing when she let out a short yelp. He pulled back sharply and rubbed his hands together in unease. "It's okay, Jill. I know you didn't mean her any harm." He scraped his hand through his hair and gave a wince as a finger caught on a knot. He scratched to release the knot and looked to one side in thought. "Her apartment is secure enough."

"You're going to keep her there?"

He nodded and gave a gentle shushing sound to ease her panic. "I'm close by, and I can ask Jason to stick around. I don't want Zoran to think that we're on to him just yet."

"Just who do you think he is?"

"I don't know," he admitted softly. "It could be nothing."

She took a seat on a spare space on a cushion beside Princess and put her hand on the sleeping woman's hip. "But you have a bad feeling?"

He raised his eyes to her and gave a tip of the head in lieu of a shrug. "I don't believe in coincidences, let's put it that way."

"Princess always says you have the most accurate intuition." She looked up at him. "If you're uneasy, then there has to be something in it."

"Or I'm just jealous."

She smiled thinly. "A little from column A - a little from column B."

He pulled a shirt from the back of the couch and tugged it over his head. "I'll take you both back to her apartment and do a quick sweep of the place to make sure you're both safe." He stooped and drew Princess up into his arms. He purred when she nestled into him and sighed his name. "Time for you to go to bed, Princess."

"We can stay here," Jill suggested hopefully. "You know, until you're sure."

He flicked his head to ask her to follow him into the hallway. "She'll have a fit if she wakes up here. I'll stay with you until I have to leave for Neptune and will post Federation police downstairs, just in case."

She pursed her lips and frowned. "You're really worried."

He smiled and used his hip to press the button for the elevator. "I just want to be prepared, Jill."

"Ahh yes,' she murmured as the car doors opened. "Eagle Mark, Boy Scout."

Even though it had only been a little over a week since he'd been inside Princess' room, it felt to Mark like it had been years. His usual ease at being in the room she once playfully termed the _games room_ was absent as he strode in with Princess in his arms to set her atop the mattress. He seemed to juggle her a little while he waited for Jill to draw down the duvet, and, once the bed was clear to lay her down, he simply didn't want to let her go. It was only when Jill fluffed the pillows and stood off to the side like a protective sentinel that he finally, and gently, placed her on her bed. As he did, her eyes gave a flutter.

"Mark?"

He hid his sudden panic that she might flip out on him and offered her a warm smile. "Go to sleep, Sweetheart."

Her eyes half opened as she raised her fingers to his face. "I had the worst dream," she sighed sleepily. "You said you didn't love me anymore."

He could tell by the vacant look in her eyes that she was still asleep and looked up at Jill. "Don't be silly, Princess," he cooed softly as Jill flicked her hand at him to urge him to play along. He let his eyes fall again to hers and leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. "You're my girl. Of course I love you."

She giggled through a tired breath and touched both hands to his face. "Promise?"

He tried not to recoil with the strong scent of alcohol on her breath. "I promise. Now sleep."

She wriggled lightly as though seeking comfort, but kept her hands on his face. "Will you prove it to me." She sighed. "Make love to me?"

His eyes flashed in embarrassment of Jill's presence for this request. "Not right now, Princess." He leaned down and nestled his nose into her cheek. "You need to sleep."

"Please," she pleaded in a whine. "I need you."

"I need you too," he breathed. "But we've had a long night. We'll make love in the morning, like we always do."

That seemed to do it. She sighed high and contentedly as she raised her hand to her cheek and nestled into it to sleep again. Mark let out a breath and pulled himself away from her. He backed up lightly toward Jill. "She's asleep."

Jill swooned beside him. "Damn she's a lucky girl."

Mark flicked his gaze at her. "Pardon me?"

She strode to the dresser and opened a drawer to pull out Princess' favourite nightshirt – Jason's old #2 shirt. "Most guys would have leapt all over that request and just pounded the mattress with her."

Mark frowned. "That's a little insensitive."

Jill spun. "What is, me?"

He shook his head. "No. The whole _taking advantage_ thing." He let his eyes fall on the sleeping woman and tilted his head to admire her. "She's not exactly in the right frame of mind for lovemaking right now. She's drunk, she's still asleep. It's just wrong."

Her brows rose high and she smiled. "Again, she's a lucky girl." Her eyes danced on his face. "And here I was thinking that gentlemen were extinct. We should put you in a zoo to be admired." She smiled as his brow rose and waggled a cheeky brow. "If she was sober right now and asked you that same question. Would you do it?"

Mark actually laughed. "Not with you in the room." He held out his hand in request for the shirt. "We should get her more comfortable. I can't imagine those pants of hers are the greatest nightwear."

She swooned past him and offered a wink. "Oh I beg to differ. She had plenty of admirers scanning over her butt tonight in those pants."

He snatched the shirt from her and scowled. "You know what I mean."

She snatched the shirt back from him and flicked her hand to _shoo_ him out of the room. "I'll dress her thankyouverymuch."

"I'll help."

She smirked and shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I intend to keep her dignity intact."

His brow flicked. "You say that like I've never seen her naked before."

Her eyes flashed wide when a counter argument refused to pop in to her mind. She made do with a shrug and a teasing smirk. "So you're a lights-on kind of guy. Good to know."

"For what reason, exactly," he countered as he drew the sleeping woman up into a seat. "I know you don't think you and I…"

She gagged. "I'd rather slit my own throat." At his stunned gasp she giggled. "Oh perhaps I want to take this woman out to Victoria's Secret to buy you something good to look at while you're…"

"Don't," he snapped in a long-suffering manner. "Please don't expand on that thought."

She nudged him with her shoulder as he tugged Princess' shirt over her head. "Why, is it giving you horny thoughts?"

"Oh just don't," he moaned as he tossed the shirt over his shoulder. Any further comments were washed out of his mind at the sight of Princess's swollen breasts peeking atop her lacy bra. His breath shook out of him as he reached for the shirt. "Jill," he pleaded softly. "The shirt?"

Jill smiled and shook her head as she reached her arm past his shoulder to snap open the clasp to the bra. "First things first, Mark."

Mark gasped and pulled Princess quickly against his chest before the bra could fall. "Jill!"

She rolled her eyes. "I thought you had no problem considering you've … and I quote … _seen her naked_. No woman sleeps in a bra, Mark. They are god awful uncomfortable things."

He narrowed his eyes at her and obediently slipped the straps down off her shoulders. He closed his eyes respectfully as he pulled away from her enough to let the garment fall off her completely. "I will never understand just how women can be so comfortable with each other that you have no issues with undressing in front of each other."

She pulled the shirt neck open and slid it over her head. "Same can be asked for how guys can parade around naked together in the locker rooms."

"Oh that's different," he answered quickly. "Guys are guys. We all have the same…" he paused when he heard his own words and dropped his head with a smile. "Oh touché."

Jill smoothed on the shirt and shifted backward to allow Mark to lay Princess back on the bed. She watched with an envious smile at the loving manner with which Mark treated her. "Stop the madness," she suggested softly as he ran his hands along Princess' sides. "Mark, you two belong together. If you're so scared of Anderson, can't the two of you just sneak around?"

His hands paused at the waistband to Princess' pants. He seemed to think a moment before he lifted the shirt enough to access the button. "I'll try to talk to her about it when she wakes up. Hopefully we can work something out.."

"I hope so."

He licked his lip as his fingers worked to pop the button on her pants. "Me too." The last words extended to nothing more than a whisper as his eyes scanned her belly. There was something different about it. He traced the pads of his fingers down over her navel and to the patch of bare skin above the open zipper. The touch of it seemed different. The look was different.

He touched at it with both hands and ignored the playful groan from the woman behind him. He knew this part of her body well. Her stomach was the one area of her he could honestly say he knew each and every single part of simply by touch. He'd spent countless hours drawing his fingers along it when the two of them snuggled or kissed on the bed or in front of the television. For reasons no other man would understand, he considered it his favourite part of her. Soft, yet tight. Smooth and silken. It was the base area for his hands as he decided whether to reach up to fondle her breasts or to slide down to test her warmth and need. It was the home of her navel; that perfect little divot in an otherwise immaculate field; the divot in which his lips and tongue could find their place and settle as she either giggled or moaned underneath him.

But tonight it felt different. There seemed to be a small, but noticeable swell in her abdomen.

His eyes flared wide as an immediate a rush of answers flew into his mind. The impact of the information was so great that his gut clenched and contracted him into a ball on his knees. "Oh God," he moaned as though in pain.

Jill immediately rushed to his side and touched at his arm with both her hands. "Mark, are you okay?"

Her jerked back from her hurriedly and backed off the end of the bed so quickly that he stumbled and landed on his ass. ""Oh no. No. No."

Jill was panicked. "Mark? Mark you're scaring me, what's wrong?"

His eyes were wide as he practically crawled backward against the wall. He raked his hand through his hair and shook his head. "Oh shit. This can't be happening." His breath deepened, but quickened into a quasi-pant. "Jill. Tell me she isn't…"

"Isn't what," she asked worriedly. "Mark, tell me what's wrong, please."

He couldn't bring himself to say the word out loud. He stared at the drunken mess lying on the bed in front of him. The thought that she could be carrying his child and that he may be responsible for her sudden irresponsible behaviour gave him a sudden need to retch. "God, what have I done?"

"Mark," Jill insisted, begged, in a tone of voice that was absolutely terrified. "Please tell me what's wrong."

He finally broke his trance on the woman on the bed and looked up at Jill with an expression that warned he was about a breath from erupting into tears. "Jill." He wanted to say something further, but found his mind and voice unwilling to provide the words.

Jill slid around the corner of the bed toward him. She analyzed his expression for only a short moment. "Can you tell me what's wrong? Is she okay, are you okay?"

He shook his head and furrowed his brows. "I … I have to get out of here."

"No, Mark. You can't leave like this."

His breathing was still somewhat panted when he took hold of her shoulders and looked into her face. "Promise me, Jill, that you won't let her leave."

Jill blinked in shock and found herself recoiling slightly. "I can't promise you, Mark. All I can do is try."

He tightened his grip. "If there is just one thing you do in your entire life for me, if you really consider yourself hers and my friend, then you will make sure she doesn't go near Zoran or any of his friends."

She nodded and swallowed hard. "What's wrong? Please tell me."

He dropped his head and released his hold on her. "Not until I know for sure, myself."

"Is she okay?"

Mark nodded. "Yes, I believe so."

"You?"

His head shook and he turned to leave the room. "No."


	10. Chapter 10

The club honestly looked much like one of his mecha's after G-Force had barreled through it. There were discarded glasses and trays, stomped cigarette butts, papers and upended stools strewn about, as well as the odd empty condom wrapper here and there.

Zoran seemed ill inclined to notice, nor care, as he strode through the main dance floor area toward the stairwell for the upper floors. The mess would be cleaned in time for opening, and hopefully the smell a little less noxious, so it was of little concern to him.

He really only had one concern clouding his mind at present – and that was the green-eyed young lady that had taken much of his attention over the past 36 hours. As yet he was unsure if she was truly the one he sought. The similarities were far too great for mere coincidence, and so he held his breath in anticipation as he waited for certain members of his staff to report their findings to him.

His thoughts were such that he didn't notice a female replica of himself lounging on the purple couch in the private room as he strode across to the bar to pour himself a wine.

"Hello brother," she purred in a voice that held a hint of arrogance in it.

He didn't look back at her as he checked the label on an open bottle of wine. "Good morning, Mala. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She stroked her fingernails between the ears of a Pit Bull and drew back from a glass of white wine. "Your new play thing."

Zoran smiled and tipped the bottle to fill his glass. "Yes. Princess."

"Is she the one?"

He waited to answer the question and turned to stroll toward a chair adjacent to his sister. His lip curled in disgust at the animal beside her. "Filthy creature. I thought I'd made it clear that I don't want that slathering monster anywhere near me."

She continued to stroke at the dog's head and swept her hand toward a chair to invite him to sit. "This creature is probably smarter than you are, Zoltar."

He snarled as he walked past and settled himself in the chair. "I have had men killed for saying less than that."

"Good thing that I am not a man."

A single laugh slid through his nose as he swirled the glass in front of his mouth. "Indeed, sister."

She let the dog settle his head across her thighs and put her hand on its shoulder. "So this girl, Princess, is she the Swan?"

"I believe so."

"Like you believed with the last five," she snarked in a low and partially teasing voice.

His eyes flared shortly at the taunt, but they quickly fell one he took a sip from his glass. "You don't believe it? It was at your suggestion we seek the services of the woman, Jill."

She sighed and watched her glass as she tipped it just shy of spilling its contents on the floor. "This girl, Jill. It is only through rumour that we link her with the female G-Force member." Her eyes rose to her brother. "This woman may be nothing more than a doppelganger with coincidental acquaintances."

"I don't believe in coincidences," he purred.

"Do you believe the G-Force girl to be so easy to net?"

"I believe a woman with a broken heart is easy prey."

Mala's brows rose in interest. "Broken heart?"

He grinned enough to bit at the lip of his glass. "Reports from the Federation say the G-Force Commander and the woman have parted ways romantically." He sucked loudly to draw a taste of wine into his mouth. He moaned at the flavor of it. "The Swan is in love with her Commander, that is plain to anyone. If he put an end to their affair, she is bound to be upset and longing for comfort."

"And this girl of yours is in such a state of duress?"

He hummed wantonly in response as he sipped again. "She is vengeful and longing."

Mala's eyes narrowed. "Then she is a dangerous plaything, Brother. A woman scorned is an unstable creature."

"And you should know."

She ignored the jibe. "Then do we make a move to take her?"

Zoltar shook his head. "We don't."

"Why not?"

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the knee. His fingertips toyed with the crease in front of his black dress pants. "The plan has changed."

His words brought her to a moan. "Brother. I must object to any variances in the initial plan. We have had this set in place for quite some time."

"Do you wish to hurt G-Force or not, Mala?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What do _you_ think?"

"Then let me work the new plan," he purred arrogantly. "I will make the G-Force woman fall for me. I will take her to my bed …"

"That's disgusting." She squeezed her hand on the dog's shoulder and released as the animal snarled in response. "You will take a filthy human to your bed? The G-Force bitch, even?"

"She is the Eagle's prize, dear sister," he muttered plainly.

"The Eagle cast her off. You will be indulging only in the sloppy seconds of a man who feels she's not even worthy enough for him."

His head tilted as a wry smile stretched across his mouth. "If my intel is accurate, Mala, then his reasons for casting the girl off were not based upon his feelings for her." He let out a moan and drew back another sip of wine. "He is very taken by her as she is him. If I were to stain her with my seed, then his mind will cloud with anger."

"Making him less controlled and likely ineffective through distraction," she finished with a high voice. "It is an interesting course, for sure, but risky."

Zoltar set his empty glass on a table beside his chair and dropped his wrist onto his knee as he stretched the other arm across the back of the couch. "It is a risk worth taking. In one swift movement I shall damage the G-Force Commander and his woman. We will surely have victory soon after."

Mala smirked and pursed her lips. "I would hope your stamina extends beyond a single movement, brother. If you insist on taking an Earth woman to your bed it is expected that you will prove to her a Spectran man is better than one from this filthy planet."

"Very uncouth, Sister."

"As is your plan," she teased in a husky voice. "I still wish to urge you to follow the original plan to throw the woman to the dogs and then dump her remains on the Federation doorstep." She petted the animal on her knee. "If we take her now we can ensure victory in this mission. If we wait we risk the Commander succumbing to his need for her and derailing your plans."

Zoltar grinned. "Do you believe the duty-bound leader of G-Force to have so little willpower?"

She raised her eyes to him. "No, but I am beginning to questions yours, Brother. Is this new conquest of yours really about the leader of G-Force, or is it just another means of asserting your own virility?"

His eyes narrowed at her. "Careful, sister, you sound jealous."

She rose from her chair and slid across the open space toward him. She stooped and pressed one hand into his knee as she flicked her fingertips along his crotch. "What you choose to do with this is your business, Zoltar. I have no desire for it."

"Even though it is Spectran law, Sister?"

She huffed lightly. "Then perhaps being on this hellish planet has its benefits."

Zoltar inhaled deeply and lowered his head in thought. "I feel that by tainting the G-Force woman we will have a better effect on the Eagle and ultimately the whole G-Force team." His eyes shifted to the couch in front of him, but he did not raise his head. "She has been easy prey thus far, and with the cocktail that Michele has given her I ensure that the woman will fall rather quickly to my charms."

She huffed. "You should be embarrassed to have to resort to such means to take yourself a woman."

He raised his eyes to her. "What must be done will be done. I do it in the name of Spectra."

She flicked her hand in a dismissive wave to him. "Oh I bet that's the reason." She caught his glare and folded her arms across her chest. "You can preach all you want to me, Brother. I know this is just an excuse for you to…"

"To win," he finished gruffly. "For no other reason."

A woman cleared her throat from beside the siblings and thrust a piece of paper toward the Spectran ruler. "Here are the test results you requested."

He was swift to snatch it from her hand. "It is late, Michele."

She cowered slightly and nodded a greeting to Mala. "These tests take time, Sire. I wanted to make sure that the results were accurate."

He said nothing in response as he let his eyes scan through the page of numbers and breakdowns. "The DNA is consistent with the sample taken from the shoe." He raised his eyes to his sister and licked at his lip. "This girl is the Swan."

Mala grinned. "Well done, Michele. You have done my galaxy girl squadron proud."

Michele cleared her throat again and half turned her gaze from the two royals. "There is more, Madam Mala. More that I think you will find interesting."

Both Mala and Zoltar fixed curious gazes on her. It was Zoltar, however, who seemed more interested in the news. "And what might that be?"

Michele crouched to scratch at the dog's ears as it sat against her legs. She raised a remote control to a large LCD TV on the wall and pressed down on the play button. "Security got this footage from the main corridor to the hole. I think it adequately proves this woman's identity."

Zoltar's eyes rose before Mala's did and he pressed his fist to his mouth in anticipation. "Oh?"

The image on the screen was in far greater resolution than most club security footages. It flickered soundlessly onto the screen and showed Princess as she strode drunkenly down the corridor. Mala purred proudly as she watched her dogs stalk toward the woman. The purr quickly turned to one of complete surprise and awe as Princess suddenly transformed in front of them.

"Oh my Lord."

Zoltar answered dutifully. "Yes, Sister?"

She glassed her eyes at him for only a brief moment before she shifted her head to Michele. "This is wonderful, child. You have again done my squadron proud."

Michele stroked her animal's head and laid a kiss on its nose. "Then may I take this little man for his breakfast?"

Zoltar flicked his brow at a women treating a dog as though it were a good child. "You may."

"First things first," Mala growled as her hands found her hips and clutched tightly at her belt. "We will gather to move on this girl."

Michele raised her eyes in both surprise and respect. "Immediately ma'am?"

Mala watched as Michele drew herself to a stand and gave a slow nod. "No more games," she hissed. "We take her now."

"No," Zoltar interrupted calmly. He ignored the glare from his sister and focused his attention on the young woman and the dog. "We will continue to court this young lady. We will be far more effective in upsetting the Commander if we take this slower."

Mala disagreed. "We risk the Commander either taking back his prize or simply working out what you are up to. He is a jealous man, Brother. He will not tolerate another man courting his girlfriend, ex or not."

Michele quietly entered the discussion. "On that I must disagree, Ma'am.' At the woman's glare she lowered her head, but continued. "Their presence in my classes at the university suggest that they are not any closer to discovering the identity of their target. This woman and the young man with the number one shirt are at constant odds."

"I thought she had yet to attend your class," Mala offered. "How would you know?"

Michele smiled. "I also am a jealous woman, Ma'am. I have been watching this girl and her attempts to attend any class. She and her Commander are no closer to reconciliation than Spectra resources are at replenishing themselves." She cast her gaze to Zoltar. "I can assure you that your current plan is working rather flawlessly at affecting him. He is distracted; very much so."

Mala let out a grunt and cast her gaze toward her brother. "You have taken yourself one of my girls as your own I see."

Zoltar smirked and licked his lip as he let his eyes scan the woman with the dog. "She is not the first, Sister."

She let out a moan of disgust. "I will again express my extreme loathe of the change in tactic. We should move immediately and take this woman. Kill her and send her pieces back to the Federation before your penis ruins this plan."

"My penis, as you so eloquently put it, has nothing to do with this. I wish to inflict as much agony on this pathetic little human as possible."

"And you think death of the one he loves is not painful enough?"

Zoltar smirked. "Not by itself."

She flicked her hand at him and stalked toward the door. "You are disgusting, but I will concede." She looked at her Galaxy Girl. "Come, Michele. We will arrange our own back up plan should this new plan backfire upon my brother."

"No," Zoltar breathed. "Michele will stay with me for the time being." He stood and approached Michele and stroked at her hair. "She has more work to do for her Ruler."

Michele gulped, but nodded.

Mala hissed and clutched her hand tightly on the door handle. "I do hope you know what you are doing, brother."


	11. Chapter 11

Tiny and Keyop were in the midst of a thumb wrestle rubber match, and Jason into his second toothpick when Mark strode into the briefing room in full birdstyle glory. His face was set into a scowl and his arms laden with papers, files, and a newly destroyed red Toshiba laptop. He set them on the large Oak conference table and pressed his hands into the tabletop as his eyes settled on the Chief.

"Thank you all for coming in on such short notice."

Jason smirked at Mark's too formal greeting. "What happened, Skipper? You shit the bed or something?"

Mark slid his eyes to his second and glowered at him as he smiled toothily over the thin piece of wood. "I'm not in the mood, Jason."

He elbowed Tiny. "Guess the answer's yes, then."

Tiny pushed across a cup of coffee with his fingertip. "Something tells me you might need this, Jase. You're still detoxing from last night, aren't you?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Anderson ignored the comments to stare at his Commander. "Where's Princess?"

Mark straightened up and set his hand on the back of a chair with the intention to pull it out to sit down. "She's sleeping at her home right now."

"Is there any reason she is exempted from this meeting, Commander?"

"Yes," he mumbled as he drew the seat noisily across the floor and flopped into it. "She's tired."

Jason moaned and cupped one hand on the mug, the other on his forehead. "What do I need to do to be able to use that excuse?"

Mark looked across at his second. "You're a mess, Jason. Have you even slept; or did you come here straight from the bar?"

"No I haven't and yes I did. Do you wanna send me home to sleep it off?"

Anderson interrupted before Mark could flick back a retort. "Yes, Commander. Might I enquire about your reasons for allowing Princess reprieve from this meeting? Tiredness is not an excuse when I have it on good authority that your third was out and behaving in a delinquent manner last evening."

Mark's eyes slid upward to glance at his leader through his visor. "Out, yes. Being delinquent, no."

Anderson's brows rose as his head tilted to one side in doubt. "She shouldn't have been out at all, Commander. She was under specific orders to remain at her home until we are able to determine why she has been feeling ill of late."

"I changed those orders," Mark lied flatly. "She has been working an undercover operation on my orders that runs throughout the night into the early morning. I debriefed her before I came here this morning to allow her to sleep."

Anderson set his chin inside his steepled fingers and steeled himself for a possible argument. "You have removed her from the serial operation?" At Mark's nod he continued. "On whose authority?"

"Mine," he answered quickly. "She came to me with some information pertinent to the current mission that I thought we couldn't ignore."

"And at what point did you think you would let us know?"

Mark blinked somewhat innocently. "That's why we're here, Sir. I intend to brief you all fully on Princess' reconnaissance over the previous 36 hours."

Jason blinked hard. Even through the haze of a sobering mind he could read Mark's lie. "So her mission is to go out and get drunk, Skipper?"

Mark read the tone in his second's voice and flicked a warning glare at him. "It's an unavoidable part of the mission, Jason. For her to become fully integrated into the culture, she does need to sample ..."

"Sample?" Jason coughed. "You might want to teach her the difference between sampling and indulging, Mark."

Mark let out a huff that sounded something like a laugh. "When she wakes I'll talk to her about that."

Anderson slid back in to the conversation. "Why did you wait this long to speak with me/us on this, Commander?"

Mark pushed across a file to the Chief. "We wanted to wait until she'd made contact with the suspect." He leaned back in his seat. "Last night she managed to confirm contact with our suspect. I spent most of this morning gathering any known intel about this guy."

Anderson was immediately intrigued and actually managed a smile as he flicked through the information in the files. "This is interesting, Commander, although I have to express my disapproval in you not coming to me with this information."

Mark managed a smirk. "Incase we have any leaks here in the Federation, Princess and I felt it better to have legitimate disciplinary action for her behaviour." He leaned back in his chair and pulled his wings in at his chest as he cast his gaze downward. "For the present time I'd prefer this information does not go beyond this room."

"Agreed," Anderson muttered as he poured through the information. "How did Princess come upon this information?"

Mark cleared his throat. "Her friend Jill. There was something about the situation that brought her to Toronto that Princess simply didn't trust. She immediately approached me to work undercover."

"Such a good girl," Anderson breathed with a smile unseen by all. "I take it that Princess will continue the operation?"

Mark shook his head. "No. Effective immediately Princess is off this mission."

Jason growled in. "On whose authority, Mark?"

Mark switched his gaze to his second and was annoyed that he had to answer the same question again. "On mine, Jason."

Anderson agreed with the Condor. "She should remain in touch with this individual and gather information on his confidants. There is the possibility this is Spectran, so we need to know all we can about this club and its investors."

Mark shook his head. "I don't want her anywhere near this assignment from herein. It has become extremely dangerous for her to continue."

Anderson raised his eyes to the Commander. "She is in no more danger now than she was when you sent her in alone, Mark. Jason and Tiny are more than capable of patronizing this venue to keep an eye on her."

"Are you forgetting her uniform troubles, Sir?"

Anderson flicked a brow. "No, Commander, but you seemed to conveniently forget about it when you sent her in alone. I see by the implant reports that there was another spontaneous change last evening at around 11:30pm." He inhaled hard. "Three separate commands by her through the transponderband for detransmutation were ignored by the implant until approximately six minutes succeeding these commands, where she fell out of uniform spontaneously."

"And you're asking why I think it's dangerous, Sir?"

He raised his eyes from the file. "Is it that the situation is dangerous, or is it jealousy over this individual Villeneuve?"

Mark steeled a glare at him. "According to you and the G-Force mandate I'm not supposed to have a heart or any feelings, Sir, how could I possibly feel jealousy?"

"I never told you that you weren't allowed to feel, Commander," Anderson growled.

"When you force me to break up with the woman I love, that's saying exactly that."

He felt the collective stares of the three other men in the room and realized that Mark was trying to set him up. He refused to bite. "Princess will return to this club tonight," he managed flatly to change the subject. "She will go without her communicator, and have Jason and Tiny as her shadows."

"No," Mark argued. "She will not go in without her only means of protection."

"She'll be fine with us there, Skipper," Jason offered, aware that there was likely more to this story than what was being shared. "Noone will go near her if we can help it."

"And meanwhile, what will I be doing," he asked as she shared a glance with Jason.

"As you are the only one who has managed to attend any classes at the university, I require you to be there tonight." He closed the file in front of him. "If this lead of Princess' is a dead end, we don't want to have had lost time."

"I think it would be better that the three of us were on the premises," his eyes shifted to Keyop, who was slouched in annoyance. "I'm sorry, Key, but you have to be 19 to get in to these clubs."

His lips pursed. "I know, I know. I'm the kid."

He put his hand on the young boy's shoulder. "I'll have you out the front ready to leap in if we need help."

"I should be in there too."

"Me, too, Keyop." He raised his eyes to the door as a technician timidly walked through the door.

The technician wiped sweaty hands on his white labcoat and cleared his throat. "Uh, Commander. You asked me to get this to you as soon as possible?"

Anderson grunted. "Is this pertinent to our current meeting, Commander?"

Mark ignored the question. "What did you find?"

The technician swallowed and pointed at the readout. "The specimen you provided from the bandage shows high levels of HGC. The levels indicate about 9-12 weeks."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes, Commander. I had the lab run it as many times as we could given the relatively small sample. Results were all the same."

Mark let out a long breath. His voice was quiet as he spoke. "Thank you, I appreciate you getting this to me as fast as you did."

The technician clicked out of the side of his mouth. "There's more."

Mark's eyes rose. "Yes?"

"We detected a minute amount of an unknown chemical in the blood. I have the lab analyzing what little sample we have, but if you could possibly draw us a vial of the victim's blood, we could do a more indepth analysis of it."

His eyes flashed at the news. "What?"

The technician held up his hands as though wanting to make sure Mark stayed calm. "It seems to be an aphrodisiac of some form. The ingredients seem organic, so I doubt there would be any detriment to the fetus."

"But you don't know for sure?"

He shrugged. "Get me a sample, Commander, or bring her in so we can do a full check-up to make sure."

Mark bit his lip and nodded. "I will."

The technician dipped his head and flicked his fingers at his brow as though a lazy salute and excused himself to leave the room hushed.

It was Jason who finally broke the silence. "Shit, Mark."

Anderson hoped that the subject of the conversation wasn't the third in command of the G-Force unit. "What was that about, Commander?"

"That," he breathed softly, "is my resignation." He unclasped the watch from his wrist and managed only a gasp as the de-transmutation took effect over his body. He looked at it for only a second before he tossed it like a Frisbee toward Anderson. "I'm not my father. I won't abandon her because you and the Federation cronies deem it inappropriate." He rubbed at the wrist now free of the communicator. "If I have to leave G-Force to be with Princess then I will."

Jason swiftly approached Mark and pressed his hands against his chest to back him up slightly. "C'mon, Mark. Don't do this." He passed a gaze back to Anderson. "The Chief will see to it that you and she can still be together and you still on the team."

Anderson gave a firm nod. "Considering she is unable to continue her duties with G-Force there is no reason to keep my order in place."

Mark gave a laugh and shook his head. "You think that's it, Chief? That I'll stay now that you'll lift the orders strictly because she's no longer on the team?"

"Isn't it what you want?"

Mark shoved Jason from him and rushed the table. He slammed both fists on the Oak top and snarled into the face of Anderson. "What I wanted," he growled, "was for her and I to be together and fight together. What I wanted was for you and the cronies here to stay out of my private life and give me a goddamned chance at leading a normal existence. Because of _your_ orders I was forced to break hers and my heart. As a result Princess has been out for the last two days like a rebel out of control. Because of _you_ she and my child are at risk. Because of _you_ and this damn team I could have lost both of them to a madman. Because of you…"

"Because of me the both of you even have a life," he snarled in interruption. "If it wasn't for me, Mark, then the both of you would never have met in the first place." He drew himself to a stand and punched his fists on the table to adopt a mirror image of Mark's posture. "Because of me you have what the both of you have. Because of me and this _damned_ team this world isn't destroyed and under the control of a madman who would make it impossible for anyone to live long enough to procreate in the first place."

Mark's lip curled, but he couldn't find the words to rebut.

Anderson clawed at the communicator on the desk and threw it into Mark's chest. He growled as he watched the Commander recoil, but catch it with both hands. "I'm really beginning to tire of you throwing this at me every time you don't get your way, Mark. It's about time you grew up and stopped being a brat." He caught a stunned stare from the young man. "You're about to become a father for Christ's sake. Act like a man and do what you have to do to make this world a safer place for the both of them."

Mark's eye twitched. "If I'm such a little brat, then why do you even want me here?"

Anderson rounded the desk and smoothly approached him. "I want you on this team because you are one of the most brilliant tactical minds in the galaxy. I want you here because you are a gifted fighter, and a damn good Commander." He pointed a finger at Jason. "I want you here because you are the only one capable of keeping _him_ in line." His voice softened and he set one hand on Mark's shoulder. "The team needs you, Mark. Like it or not, you are the only man for this job."

Mark angled his face to one side and closed his eyes heavily. "It shouldn't have to come to this, Chief. Why can't you all just let us be who we need to be?"

"Is that your way of sticking with your decision to resign?"

He shook his head as he clasped his communicator back onto his wrist. "No. I'm saying that from here on in, anything my team or myself choose to do outside of duty hours is our business." He swept his hand in the air beside him to indicate his team. "I know I speak for us all when I ask that you back of and let us be."

Jason snorted in agreement from behind Mark. "You got that right, Skipper."

Anderson swept his glance across the faces of the four G-Force members. "You know that you kids simply don't have that kind of luxury, don't you? None of you can fully be free to do as you please."

"We know our limits," Mark challenged. "We've been at this long enough to know what we can and cannot do out there."

Anderson let out a long breath. "I will concede on one condition." He waited until he got four nods to continue. "That your outside activities will not affect your G-Force duties." He flicked an authoritative finger. "The second I hear that any of you have engaged in any illegal acts, or that your new private lives encroach in any detrimental way on your role within this team, I will have you shipped back here to live out the rest of your career in this facility." His eyes narrowed. "Am I clear?"

"Perfectly," Mark boomed on behalf of his team.

Anderson steeled a glare at Mark. "I expect you to ensure that your team behave themselves out there, Commander. As you are their voice, you will be held directly accountable for anything they do."

"Understood."

"Now," Anderson breathed harshly. "Now that's cleared up, can we get back to the mission?"

Each member took a seat at the table. Anderson spread the file photos of the club across the top and tapped his finger atop one of them. "With Princess now officially off the mission, we have to go at this a little differently."

"We storm the place?" Jason asked hopefully.

Anderson shook his head. "Too dangerous to any civilians in there, Jason. We're better to try and get you guys in here." He circled his finger over the interior shot of what looked to be a private room. I can have you easily put on the VIP list as a celebrity race-car driver – that'll save any line ups."

Mark leaned his forearms on the table. "Will I still be expected to go to the university, Sir?"

Anderson seemed to think it over for a moment and switched his gaze between Tiny, Jason and Keyop. "No. You can standby with Keyop on the rooftop across the street."

"I should be inside," he argued.

Anderson shook his head. "No, Commander. If this is Spectra, and one of their key operatives is on the premises, then you will be immediately recognized. Your face is one they know well."

Jason grinned and slapped Tiny on the stomach with the back of his hand. "Looks like it's you and me, Fat Boy. You up for getting rowdy without the boss around to steal the glory?"

Tiny smirked and rubbed at his fist to crank his knuckles. "You know it, Jase."

Anderson raised a hand to ask for silence. "There'll be no rowdy behaviour unless they strike at you first. This is a reconnaissance mission. You both need to look around, ask questions and find out if this Villeneuve character is truly a potential serial killer; or just a man with real bad luck when it comes to his acquaintances."

Jason shifted his head, and then his eyes, to Mark. "You need me to give him a little payback for making a move on your woman?"

"Jason," Anderson snapped, "what did I just say?"

Jason merely flicked a brow and slouched arrogantly to one side. "Hey, I have to ask."

Mark let a slow grin spread across his face. "No thanks, Jase. I'll offer my own payback at a later time."

Tiny scrunched his face somewhat at the conversation. "Speaking of. Didn't your lab monkey suggest that Princess had been drugged?"

Anderson's eyes shot wide. "Yes, that's right." He flicked his hand for the paper in Mark's hand. "Good catch, Tiny."

As Anderson looked over the figures, Jason leaned in to Mark. "If he's drugging her so she'll sleep with him, we need to whoop some ass, Mark."

Mark nodded shortly. "You got that right."

"Tiny and me will hold him down for you."

Anderson cleared his throat. "You realize I can hear you both, right?"

Both men sat back innocently in their chairs. Mark wiped at his mouth with his fist to hide a smile and flicked his eyes to the paper. "What do you think, Sir?"

"Well," Anderson muttered as he set his chin into his hand and leaned against the desk. "As it stands we have grounds for detainment and interrogation…"

"Then let's do it," Jason grinned. "I'm in the mood for a little questioning."

Anderson raised his eyes. "No. We wait. Princess is obviously his target. We will just make her unavailable to him to bide you some time to really look in to this."

"And you want me to forget immediately clowning this guy for what he did to her." Jason muttered. "Talk about will power, man."

"Leave it for the authorities, okay," Anderson muttered. "Last thing I need is a lawsuit for Condor-induced grievous bodily harm."

Jason thumbed his nose. "I'd be more worried about him," he muttered as he thumbed his nose and nodded toward Mark.

Anderson set the paper on the table. "Your Commander has adequate will-power, Jason."

"Which is clearly evident considering he knocked up his third in command."

"No need for facetiousness, Jason." Anderson blew out a long and heavy breath through pursed lips. "When I have confirmation that you gave VIP access to the club, I'll let you know." He passed a glance to Mark. "Bring Princess to me, Commander. I will make sure she is thoroughly checked and safely detoxified from this drug."

Mark gave a firm nod and pushed against the edge of the desk to slide his chair across the floor. "I will work through a surveillance plan with Keyop when I return this afternoon with Princess."

"Very good," Anderson said with a nod. "Team, you're dismissed until fifteen hundred. At that time I want you in tactical to work through your parameters."

Mark rose in time with Anderson, but didn't step away from the table as the Official team leader strode out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He let out a long and relieved breath and took his seat again. He dropped his head on the table and circled it with his arms. "Jason. Bad luck runs in how many lots?"

"Three," he answered quickly.

He raised his head and slumped with his eyes to the ceiling. "Good, then I've reached quota."

"Does that mean I'm not saying congratulations, Man?"

Mark let out a soft laugh through his nose. "I'll let you know _after_ I've given Princess the news."

Jason gasped in much the same manner Tiny did beside him. "She doesn't know?

He slid his eyes to his second and looked upon him with a tired stare. "Do you think she'd be doing what she's doing if she did?"

"If it was with your orders, Skipper, I don't know."

"Well I do, and she wouldn't," Mark sighed. "And she hasn't been operating under my orders at all. I worked this all out on my own last night when she came over to my place drunk." He rubbed at his brows with his forefinger and thumb. "She had a dog bite that looked like the ones from the crime scene photographs."

Jason actually laughed. "You lied to the boss?"

"I had to, Jason. She's not herself right now and doesn't need the Chief jumping down her throat."

"Oh, Man. How the hell do I get onto that list of salvation of yours?"

Mark wiped his hand down his face. "Get pregnant with my kid." He pressed his hands in to the table and pushed himself to a stand. "I need to go talk to her."

"Yeah, you'd better."

He gave Jason a weak smile and slapped him a couple of times on the shoulder in a manly gesture of thanks. "Wish me luck."

Jason gripped hard on Mark's shoulder in return to hold him in place. "Skipper. Congratulations, eh."

Tiny gave a nod of agreement. "Yeah, Mark. You're a lucky sonova bitch, she's a special lady." He smirked. "Now you treat her right, you hear me?"

Mark smiled at his team in genuine appreciation. "You're right, Tiny. I am a lucky man."


	12. Chapter 12

For the first time in his life, Mark could honestly say he was scared. Actually _scared_ didn't adequately describe the feeling that made him sweat and shake as he stood by Princess' apartment door. _Absolutely terrified_ was perhaps a more apt depiction for his current state. He had to wonder for the briefest of moments if coming face to face with an entire Spectran Army, solo, naked, and tied to a wall with a giant missile aimed toward him, would have been a more bearable scenario right about then.

He could feel the sweat in his palms as he switched his hands in and out of fists. He could hear his heartbeat course through his ears. He could even count off the minutes ticking off his watch as the second hand strolled through its circle.

Five minutes. He'd been standing in this very spot for an agonizing five minutes, contemplating just how he was going to break the news to Princess that she was expecting his child. Moreover, how was he going to explain to her how he knew she was in such a state; that he had effectively snuck around behind her back to do testing?

He swallowed hard as he heard movement from beyond the door. He let out a breath and raised his hand to give two short and hard knocks.

Jill opened the door just a crack as though to screen the visitor, but quickly beamed a smile at him as she threw open the door and hugged him. "Oh, Mark. Thank God it's you." She tugged him inside and walked her back against the door to close it. "Since you left I've been so scared to open the door at all."

He flicked a brow. "Have there been many visitors?"

She shook her head and used her hand to point at a vase of flowers on the counter. "Just a delivery guy with those for Princess." She paused and tilted her head as she scrutinized him before her. "Wow, Mark. You look like hell."

He spared her an apologetic glance and ran his fingers sheepishly through his hair. He could feel the sweat and rolled his head as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Yeah. I'm nervous."

She let out a laugh. "You? Mark? The Eagle? Nervous?"

He snorted in amusement. "Yeah. I have some news for Princess and I don't know how she'll take it."

"Bad?"

"I hope she doesn't think so." He wandered to the counter and plucked the card from a clear plastic holder. "Despite what my outward appearance might suggest, I'm pretty cool about it."

She had to smile. "Oh, what is it? Can you tell me?" She slouched and pressed her finger to her lip in a manner that was usually under strict copyright rules by Princess. "You got a promotion?"

He pulled the card from the envelope and shot an amused glance at her. "I'm about as promoted as I'm going to be, Jill."

"Then what?"

He frowned at the signature on the card and scrunched it in his hand. He ignored her question to read the name on the card out loud. "Zoran."

Jill leaned her elbows on the counter across from him and dropped her chin in her hands to lazily offer her full attention to him. "Is that jealousy I hear, Mark?"

His eyes rose. "Concern, Jill."

"Liar."

He leaned his forearms on the counter and toyed with the small crumpled card. "Is that your word of the week, Jill? You seem to be using it an awful lot."

She didn't change her position, but she let a smile lightly force her eyes to his. "Well if you and Princess would stop lying to each other I wouldn't have to use it."

"It's not lying," he attempted, before conceding with a roll of the eyes at her disbelieving stare. "Okay, yes. I am jealous, very jealous. But I am also very concerned."

"Don't be," she whispered softly. "She's in good hands now. You've finally come to your senses …" she paused and gave a mock frown. "You _have_ come to your senses, haven't you?"

"Yes." He gave a short look around. "Speaking of Princess, where is she?"

Jill shrugged, but maintained her slouched and _cute_ position at the counter. "Sleeping."

A shocked look passed through his eyes and he looked down at his watch. "It's almost noon."

She giggled. "But she didn't get to bed until four. She also had a lot to drink last night so she'll probably be out for a little while longer." She yawned and stood. With a quick flex and push of her arms on the bench, she lifted herself to sit on top of it. "She'll probably wake up, have a hair of the dog and then you two can talk it out."

He frowned and shook his head. "She is no longer allowed to drink – at all."

She widened her eyes in surprise. "Oh, she won't like that, Mark. She and I have always shared a wine in the evening, even when she was only 16 and working at the café."

He pursed his lips. "Well for the next few months that tradition will have to be suspended."

"Why? Has Anderson put a ban on alcohol with you guys now?"

"No," he said softly. "I am." At her wide eyes he leaned his hand on the bench beside her and smiled. "Jill. Princess is pregnant."

She brought both hands to her mouth and gasped. "Are you serious?" She watched him nod and cast her eyes to the bedroom door. "Oh Mark. I didn't know. If I did there is no way I would have allowed her to go out and … Oh no."

He touched his hand to her shoulder and shook his head. "She doesn't even know. I didn't for sure until a couple of hours ago until I had her blood analyzed by our lab."

"Is that why you ran out of here so quickly last night; because you saw something that made you think she was expecting?"

He nodded. "I felt it."

"How? She can't be far enough along to feel the baby move."

He ran his hand down his belly and looked downward. "I know her so well that I could just…" he raised his eyes. "I could just feel it."

She grinned and leapt off the table to throw herself at him in a hug. "Oh, Mark. That's so wonderful! She's going to be thrilled."

He gave her a worried look. "I'm not so sure about that. Jill she's only nineteen and she and I haven't exactly been on good terms these past few days." He ran his fingers through his hair. "How do I even know she wants this?"

"Oh I don't think she'll be too upset, Mark. Sure, she might be a little shocked, but. Wow. This is exciting." She giggled. "Oh you and she are going to have the most beautiful babies." Her eyes lit up and she slid off the counter. "I have to wake her."

He stopped her by holding her shoulder. "No. Let her sleep."

Jill looked impatient as she looked at the bedroom door. "But I want to see her face when you tell her."

"No offence, Jill, but I think this is something that I should tell her privately."

She whined and slouched in disappointment. "No fair."

"It is to her," he muttered with a smile and a shrug as he tossed the crumpled piece of card into the sink.

She tapped her foot on the floor and looked up again at the door as though willing it to suddenly burst open. "We should celebrate," she managed after a second with a voice that slowly morphed from disappointment back to excitement. "I have a bottle of bubbly in the fridge that I've been saving for something like this."

He watched her wander to the fridge and waved his hand. "Oh no, Jill. I don't drink."

She spun and dropped a brow in surprise. "Since when?"

"Since ever."

She let out a laugh. "Oh come on. I've lost count of the times you and Jason ended up sleeping in one of my booths because you'd both had too much."

"Yeah, when Jason was spiking my drinks."

She rolled her eyes. "You don't need to spike whiskey on the rocks, Mark. It's about as heavy as it's going to get."

He smiled and leaned against the counter to watch her as she opened the fridge. "He told me it was non-alcoholic."

"Liar," she muttered as she turned to the fridge door. A piece of pink stationary held on by a ladybug magnet caught her attention and she let out a short gasp as she plucked it off. "Oh dear."

"What's wrong?"

She brought a hand to her mouth and fisted her lips as she read the quickly scrawled message. "Oh shit."

Mark heard the worry and quickly pushed himself from his lean. "What's wrong, Jill?"

She raised her eyes to him and felt her heart quicken in her chest. "She's not here."

"What?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know how she managed to leave. I was here all morning."

He half snatched the paper from her fingers and immediately dropped his eyes to the note. His voice slid much like an angry groan through his lips. "She's gone to see _him_."

Jill backed up a couple of steps. "Mark. I swear. I have been here all day. I didn't see her leave her bedroom." Her eyes widened. "Unless it was when I was in the shower, but I swear I was only in there for five minutes."

He clenched his eyes shut and cracked his heck to one side. "It's not your fault, Jill. Princess can be sneaky when she wants to be." He took a breath. "I would guess that she's assuming I've put her on lockdown after last night and simply waited until you were otherwise distracted."

She pursed her lips. "But that's not like her."

"Has she been like herself since you arrived?"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "No. Not really, but with she and you splitting, I figured it was just her reaction to it." She raised her eyes. "You know how she feels about you, Mark. She was a mess when you broke it off."

"I was a mess too, Jill." He pressed his hand into the wall and stared at his communicator. "Noone seems to get that; to understand that I have been going through as much hell as she has."

Jill swayed to one side and scrunched her face. "I don't doubt it, Mark. But she's my best friend and I know every single little dream she's ever had about you, how many times she's cried over you and …"

"This isn't about who hurts more," he grunted finally. "We're both in pain, let's just leave it at that. I'm more worried about getting her away from the guy before…"

Jill didn't let him finish. She shoved him toward the door and swiped her jacket from the back of a chair. "Then let's go get her."

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Anderson hovered close to the mass spectrometer machine as it whirred and clicked in analysis of the smallest sample of Princess' blood. Beside him, a technician worked a simulation program on what appeared to be a computer from the turn of the century. As he clicked to allow the simulation to give him a viable scenario he looked up at Anderson.

"Have you ever heard the cliché _A Watched Pot Never Boils_?"

Anderson didn't smirk, although it was obvious he caught the humour in the comment. "Actually, inevitably the pot will boil, Jones. The sensation of longevity in the wait is merely…"

"Okay. Okay," he conceded with a groan. "I get it. Don't be a smartass."

"How are the simulations going?"

Jones leaned back heavily in his chair and swiveled from side to side with his arms locked tight across his chest. "Doesn't look good, John. We managed to create the specs for a synthetic compound here on the system. While I don't know exactly what it is, I can tell you that it isn't good."

Anderson abandoned the Mass Spectrometer and leaned over Jones' shoulder to take a look at the information on the screen. "How bad, exactly?"

He unfolded his arms only enough to be able to reach one arm forward to tap at a key on the keyboard. "For a normal healthy woman Princess' age, the drug would have little more than an aphrodisiacal effect."

"Meaning she'd be likely to jump in to bed with anyone?"

Jones shook his head. "Nah, it seems to be chemically based – perhaps on the maker's own biological chemical signature." He leaned forward and touched the mouse to call up a different screen. He tapped his finger on the monitor. "That is the only chemical we can't identify. It's biological and appears to contain an animal pheromone."

"Can you trace the DNA?"

He shook his head. "Not human, nor any animal we have on this planet."

Anderson let out a long groan. "Spectran."

"Likely."

Anderson sucked air in through his mouth with enough force that his lips slapped together. "So you said that the drug was relatively harmless in a normal girl. Tell me what it's doing to Princess."

"Well," Jones began as he swiveled his chair to face Anderson. "Princess has multiple factors that make this drug a little more volatile to her system than most girls. One, she's half Rigan. The biological make-up of this drug is Earth-specific. It was created to work well on Earth girls." He cleared his throat. "With she being a half-breed, it is having the dual effect of attraction to the maker, and aggression toward those she would ordinarily have attraction to."

Anderson's brow flicked high. "Which means, what; Mark's in danger?"

"Well for now, Mark would be on the receiving end of nothing more than some harsh words and maybe a slap or a glare." He pointed at the screen. "However, if she gets enough in her, she'll kill him."

"How much more would she need?"

Jones gave a shrug. "It's hard to say. With her being pregnant, and without us knowing exactly how far along she is, her metabolism is slowed. Normally she and the boys run at a high metabolic rate, which works these kinds of drugs out of them so fast they tend to be immune to most." He watched the monitor as the computer worked through another simulation. "Pregnant, her blood stream will hang on tight to anything she ingests as long as it can to receive as much as it can from it. This drug is obviously administered via this method, so …" He sighed. "It's honestly hard to accurately determine."

"Can I ask for your gut instinct?"

Jones let out a breath. "Judging by the various scenarios I've plugged into the system, and the constant error messages I'm getting I can only suggest her exposure from herein would be minimal."

"Jesus," Anderson breathed. "If she lashes out at Mark…"

"She'll kill him," Jones finished. "Simply because Mark won't defend himself against her."

"Well no," Anderson agreed. "She's carrying his child."

"Even if she wasn't pregnant, John. Mark wouldn't strike back even if she had her yo-yo at his throat." He rose from his seat as the Mass Spectrometer beeped its completion. "He's not capable of forcing himself to bring harm on her, or any other woman for that sake."

Anderson grunted. "That'll be his undoing one day."

"You raised a gentleman, John. Be proud of him for that."

"I raised a boy who got his nineteen year old girlfriend pregnant – his teammate to boot."

"Yes, further to her current condition. We determined the pregnancy is what is tampering with Princess' transmutations."

Anderson's brows rose high. "It's that simple?"

"Did you think it would be a complicated thing, John?" He slouched heavily in the chair. "Her subconscious knows she's pregnant even if she doesn't. You know we set that implant to activate on a thought command, even if we did train them to have to order it to happen. Every time she feels a slight threat, the sequence activates. She cannot control it once the transmutation has hold. It'll drop only when her mind perceives the threat to be over."

Anderson pursed his lips. "So if I understand this correctly. If she were to have exposure to any more of this drug, she will subconsciously transform into the Swan and attack her commander."

"More than attack, John. She'll target him as the enemy. With her subconscious mind out to protect her unborn, she won't just simply warn him to back off."

"Will he be able to talk her down?"

Jones shrugged. "Depends on their connection, John. If the both of them were still tight, I'd guess that he probably could, but you had them separate. I don't know how Mark handled the break up, but if it went sour, then he's at higher risk of her going for his throat."

Anderson blew out a long breath and tapped his fingers against his chin. "Well fortunately Mark will be bringing her in within a couple of hours, so she shouldn't have any extra dosages in her system."

"Good to know," Jones muttered. "We'll work on a safe method to ensure the chemical is out of her system as quickly as possible."

Anderson gave a firm nod. "Good. But. What about the baby? Will this drug harm it?"

Jones shook his head. "None of the ingredients has any known harmful effects on an unborn child either alone or in combination with any other. It's relatively safe, much moreso than the previously used date rape narcotics."

Anderson licked at his lip and turned to exit the lab. "I'll brief my team on your findings, in two hours. If you find anything further, I'd appreciate you informing me as soon as possible."

Jones went back to his computer screen and spoke to Anderson's reflection. "Just bring the girl in, John, and we'll make sure she's okay." He gave a small burp as he took a drink from his can of coke. "Oh and until we know for sure, keep Mark away from her."

Anderson's eyes widened. "That might be harder said than done."


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry this update took so long … I got distracted by a couple of fic ideas that I had to get down before they vanished into oblivion…

I hope this doesn't disappoint.

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Mark had to be thankful for one thing when Jill suggested she drive – actually two things. One, she knew the location of the bar and all of the sneaky back routes. Two, she was a woman driver, and therefore somewhat more reckless and speedy than even the mighty Condor out on the track. His hand gripped tightly at the armrest on the door as she swerved and rocked the car with harsh lane changes, but he didn't feel any fear.

Well, nothing beyond just what he might walk in to once they got to the club. He feared that the aphrodisiac the lab technician had warned him about was about to make her do something stupid, and then he would have to kill a man.

He let out a humph as his bracelet chimed in a message he assumed was from Anderson. There was something about the chime that would pre-warn him that Anderson was on "hold" and this particular chime had that very irregularity to it. He snapped his wrist to his lips.

"G1, go ahead, Chief."

"_Commander, where are you?"_

Mark flicked a brow and considered replying that he was currently in a death mobile headed toward Hell in a hurry, but made do with something less fictional. "Jill and I are on the way to the club to retrieve Princess. Chief, she broke orders again."

Anderson was heard to sigh. _"Commander, you need to back off and let Jason go in and get her. I'll have Zark send him the coordinates."_

Mark's head jerked in complete surprise. "Jill and I are almost there, Sir. We'll collect her and bring her back to Neptune. No need to send in Jason."

"_Negative, Commander. New intel has warned that you are in danger if you attempt to corner Princess right now."_

He almost laughed. "From Princess? Come on, Sir. We may have been at odds over the past couple of days, but we aren't at that point."

"_It's the drug, Commander. The lab has warned that if she receives any further dosages that she will attack you." _He paused only shortly. _"Mark. She may have feelings for you, but at present they aren't favourable. I don't need to remind you how dangerous she is when she sights an enemy."_

Mark growled into his com-link. "I am not an enemy, Sir. The intelligence you're receiving needs to be rechecked, Princess would never hurt any of us – she is incapable of it." He passed a gaze to Jill, who nodded in agreement as she gripped hard on the steering wheel and tightly skidded around a corner. "How close are we, Jill?"

"Nearly there, Mark. Just hang on to your cajones, two turns to go."

Anderson's voice slid through the communicator again. _"Mark, this is a direct order. You will stand down and let Jason go and retrieve her."_

Mark groaned and flicked his communicator to mute. "Absolutely ludicrous."

Jill chuckled. "Yeah, I know, eh? I think the bigger danger is she pouncing on you and doing you right there and then the second you bat those lashes of yours at her."

He smiled. "Batting lashes is a girl thing, Jill."

"And girls around the galaxy want the set you have."

His brow flicked, but he smiled at the compliment. Before he could say anything, however, his body was thrust forward as she braked heavily in front of the club. "Christ, Jill, have you heard of force of motion and the dangers of immediate deceleration?"

"Huh?" She blinked in total confusion. "Is that a pilot thing?"

He undid his seatbelt and dropped his head to shoot her a soft chiding stare through his brows. "I'll have Jason bring you up to speed on that. He's rather fluent in the physics of driving and crashing."

"Oh, okay, whatever."

A knock on the window beside him made Mark look up. His lip twitched slightly at the sight of a rather large security guard with a painfully long mullet haircut. He had to stifle a laugh as he pressed his finger on a button to allow the window to roll down. "This is the parking area for the club, right?" He asked in as dumb a voice as he could manage.

The security guard looked him over for a minute and ducked his head to look across at Jill. His eyes fell to her chest and he smirked. "She the new dancer?"

Jill gasped in disgust and covered her chest, while Mark played along. "Is your boss looking for new blood?"

The bouncer snorted and pointed to a bay behind them. "Back up into there, it's the staff lot. Tell the girl to put on some makeup before she meets the boss. He likes them pretty."

Jill let out a cough, but refrained from retorting when Mark's hand found her knee to give it a squeeze. "Don't worry about it, we'll have her looking hot for Mr. Villeneuve."

Jill's face was set in a snarl as she flicked her eyes to the mirror to back the car into the bay. "I am a natural beauty, thank you very much," she growled at her passenger. "I don't need warpaint."

Mark was less concerned that she was offended, and more worried about what was happening inside. "Jill. What kind of club is this?"

She pulled down the visor and dropped the flap to check her reflection in the vanity mirror. "It has several levels, Mark. It's a kind of all-in-one thing. Strip bar, sports bar, nightclub. The only one open pretty much all day is the peeler bar."

He shot a glare at her. "Princess is in a strip joint?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're kidding, right? Prim and proper Princess watching porn girls pump and grind on stage?" She wiped at the corner of her mouth after applying a layer of gloss. "Hardly."

He seemed to expel a held breath. "I hate to admit it, Jill, but I hope she is. The thought of her in those private quarters with him…?"

Her eyes flashed wide at the mental image. "Screw the makeup, I look good as is."

G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3 G1G3

There was a steady and thumping backbeat that seemed to pulse within her body as she swayed and hung from a thick polished steel pole in front of Zoltar. Each beat seemed to push its way out of her along her panted breath and she felt herself succumbing to the sight, the sound and the atmosphere of a dark and dingy strip bar.

She didn't take a moment to wonder why she was so limp and felt so free. Her muscles buzzed as though she'd been drinking all day, yet all she'd had was a bottle of water. Before she'd even finished it she found herself inexplicably drawn to the blonde-haired host. She hungered him with a need so great she hurt. Never before had she felt such deep desire for any man…

…not even Mark.

Her breath hitched at the thought of her Commander. That animal had thrown her aside like she was nothing. He took from her what he came for and then left like a dog into the night. Worse, he used duty to the cause as an excuse.

She felt a hot anger burn from her forehead down to her toes and let the red hot flush rise again into her belly. She raised her hands over her head, gripped at the pole with both hands and sizzled a sultry stare down to the man in front of her.

There had to be fifty men in the club with their eyes on her bare mid drift and skin-tight leather pants; but she didn't care about them. The only focus of her attention was the blonde haired and blue eyed man who sat on a wooden chair directly ahead of her. He sat with an open legged slouch with his head propped admiringly on his hand as he leaned his elbow on the armrest.

She licked at her lips as she let her eyes trail an invisible line down his chest to his crotch and then back up again. She watched his lips part slightly to breathe an exhale of admiration and slid herself down the pole so that she was on her knees.

She crawled like a prowling feline toward the edge of the stage and remained on all fours as she crooked a finger to ask him to approach.

He leaned forward in the chair and set both elbows on his knees as he raised his face to give her a look down his nose.

"Come to me, Cheri," he purred along a breath.

"Nuh-uh," she chided softly with a wave of her finger. "You come to me."

His brow flicked at her, but he complied with a slow swipe of his tongue along his top lip. "As you wish." He slowly rose from his seat and prowled toward her. "But then the game is mine."

"Care to let me roll the dice," Mark's voice growled over the top of the music. He strode with a casual, yet warning gait across the carpet and paused dead centre between Princess and Zoltar. "I love to play."

Zoltar sneered at the familiar sound of the Eagle snarling a taunt at him, but didn't take his eyes off Princess. "Commander, how _nice_ of you to stop by."

Mark's head ticked to one side in recognition – he'd know that voice anywhere. "Zoltar. How did I know that you would be the one behind this?"

Zoltar took a deep inhale and held onto it for a long second before he spoke along the exhale. "Because of the brilliance of the plan, of course."

"I was thinking more along the lines of how deranged it is."

Zoltar gave a laugh. "Where is the wit today, Commander? From you I would expect a more creative comeback."

"I'd rather not waste my literary brilliance." He tilted his head to Princess, who was still on her hands and knees at the edge of the stage. "Come on, Princess. We need to get you out of here."

"Oh," Zoltar laughed. "She stays with me. Your Swan is now mine."

"I hardly think so."

Zoltar extended his hand toward Princess and splayed his fingers to ask for her hand. "Come to me, Cheri."

Mark turned his head to Princess and extended his hand to her also. "Princess, this man isn't who you think he is. Come to me."

Princess flicked a lazy gaze between them both and slowly drew herself up into a kneeled seat. She inhaled a loud sigh and ran her hands through her hair. "As it turns out, Mark, neither were you."

Mark gasped at her words and flicked his hand to her with more urgency. "You're not yourself right now. Let me take you home."

Zoltar stood and glided along the floor to beside Mark. He was careful to remain out of striking reach to the Eagle Commander. He slowly shifted his arm through the air toward Princess. "Who is your hero tonight, Cheri? Is it the pilot with his head in the clouds, or the man who adores you?"

Mark's gaze slid hotly toward Zoltar. His lip curled in disgust, but he said nothing.

Princess, however, slid off the stage and slowly stalked toward Zoltar. Her eyes grazed through the haze at her ex-lover as she slid her arms around Zoltar's neck. "My choice. Is you, Zoran."

Mark's eyes narrowed and darkened as he watched her graze her open mouth along Zoltar's shoulder and collarbone. Her eyes were locked on Mark as though to taunt him. His voice was a hot hiss when he spoke. "I order you to come with me now, Princess."

She chuckled and threaded her hands into Zoltar's hair. "I take orders from no man," she glassed as she tugged Zoltar's head to draw him into a kiss.

Zoltar kept his eyes locked on Mark as he made every effort to prove to the Commander that the prize was his. He gulped inside the kiss as though to swallow the young woman whole and grabbed hard at her ass to pull her closer.

Mark's head ticked to one side as his fists clenched at his hips. "Take your hands off her."

The order the civilian Eagle gave was so dark it made even Zoltar shudder. His hand seemed to have a light shake to it as he drew Princess off him and looked into her face. "Tell me, Cheri. Do you and I leave to my private quarters, or do you leave with the Eagle?"

Princess turned her head to look over her shoulder at Mark. "Let's go, Zoran."

Mark's instinct was to tear Princess from his enemy and force her into the car to leave, but he couldn't force himself to do so. He shifted his weight from one foot to another in nervous indecision as to what to do. His kept his eye on Zoltar as Princess slid to his side. "Princess, please."

His voice was soft, desperate, and she found herself pausing for the slightest second. "Mark, just go. We're done."

"No we're not," he urged softly, uncaring that his greatest enemy was bearing witness to the exchange. "You know we're not."

She stepped to one side, still attached to Zoltar, but far enough from him to allow Mark the space and safety required to launch. And he did. His whole face dropped the caring expression and morphed into one of complete fury. He let out a loud cry as he threw himself at Zoltar's chest to propel him away from Princess.

"You will not have her," he cried as he drove the man to his back on the carpet.

Zoltar grunted at the hit, coughing out a desperate plea for his men to aid him. His hands flew to cover his face as Mark struck once, and then twice, with a tight fist. Mark's hands found Zoltar's throat and he clutched tightly to squeeze the very life from him.

"You want to strike at me, Zoltar, do it like a man." He growled low and dark. "Man to man, face to face you pathetic asshole."

Zoltar's eyes were wide as he clawed at Marks hands and gasped for breath. "Cheri…"

Mark only grabbed tighter at his throat and used his whole body weight to find the extra strength to clutch tighter at him. "You can't have her," he growled possessively. "You don't love her."

"No," he gasped in as arrogant a manner as was possible. "But she does me."

The admission made Mark grasp even tighter at Zoltar's throat. He honestly never thought he'd feel good about killing a man, but at this moment, all he could do was grin and watch almost gleefully as he felt the life slip in his hands.

Before he could end it completely, however, he felt the kick of a stacked leather heeled boot across the side of his head. He yelled as he tumbled off to the side. He moved to rise and strike back, but immediately fell back to his knees when he saw that his attacker was Princess. She loomed over the top of him, fists clenched at her hips.

"Leave him alone," she growled darkly. "If you want to kill him, you go through me first."

Mark's entire body slumped at her words. "Princess?"

She backed up only half a step as though giving herself extra distance for any one of her attacks to be more effective. "Have you had enough, _Commander_?"

He could only shake his head and gasp at her. "You don't know what you're doing."

Her breath drew in with a slowness that matched a slow widening of her eyes. "I know _exactly_ what I'm doing, _Commander_." She pulled her yo-yo from her pocket and let the flat rounded disk roll up and down its string. "I think it's you that's confused right now."

Mark still held the side of his head and tried to hide a wince at the throb. "No, Princess. You have to believe me. The man you're with, it's Zoltar."

The name made her head tick to one side, her lip curled and she narrowed her eyes hotly at him. "You're a liar," she accused inside a snarl. "What is it, Mark, you don't want me but noone else is allowed to either?"

He rose to his feet and stumbled against the wall. For once he knew what it felt like to be a Spectran good in the sights of the G-Force Swan – and he didn't like it one bit. He raised a hand to her to ask for a moment. "Princess, Sweetheart, please. Hear me out."

She lunged as his endearment left his lips and drove him against the wall with her forearm across his throat. She jammed the spike of her yo-yo into his gut. "Don't call me that," she yelled with enough passion to spray spittle in to his face. "You have no right to call me that."

Zoltar appeared behind her and let his voice ghost around her neck. "Kill him, Cheri," he purred. "Kill him and we'll be together."

Mark panted under the gazes of Princess and Zoltar. Without a blink of his eyes, or even shedding a single bead of sweat he could have taken them both on and dragged Princess out to the car – But he couldn't bring himself to move. He couldn't even consider the option of using any amount of physical force against her. His only option was to try and talk her through it.

"Princess," he said softly, urgently. "Please listen to me. I was wrong, okay."

Her lips twitched high enough to flare her nostril. She gulped a hard swallow and angled her chin toward Zoltar as though inviting him to nuzzle into her neck. "Just go," she said softly as she released him and stepped backward. "Go." She walked around Zoltar and drew her fingertip along his chest as she passed. "And we should do the same, lover.'

Zoltar licked his lips greedily and pursed his lips enough that it appeared he blew an arrogant kiss at the wounded commander. "Oui, Cherie, to my boudoir."

The sudden put-on French accent ripped into Mark. He barely had time to translate the sentence in his mind before he growled and leapt toward Zoltar. "I'll kill you before you lay a hand on her," he yelled as he grabbed a fist full of his hair and yanked him backward off his feet. As Zoltar fell to the ground, Mark leapt on top of him and rammed his fist into his throat. "This ends now, Zoltar."

The strike of the yo-yo was precision perfect and struck the Eagle leader in the cheek. The sharp pointed spur ripped through his skin before it found its way to his shoulder. Mark managed to grab the head of the weapon and tugged hard enough on it that the ring pulled from her finger. His eyes flared as he drew himself to a stand and held it up beside his ear. "Wait for me outside, Princess."

Her eyes narrowed and her body fell into a hunch at his words. "Oh," she laughed darkly. "I don't think so." Her hands flicked either side of her hips and opened wide and flat. Without verbal command her uniform flashed a holographic swirl of colours. "I warned you to leave him alone."

The weapon fell from his hands as she transformed in front of him. Behind him a flurry of violent activity initiated, but he was ill inclined to transfer his attention toward it. He merely took a deep breath of absolute panic and held his hands in front of himself to ask her to stop. "Princess, you don't want to do this."

"Fight me," she challenged obviously as ignorant to the melee at the front door as Mark was.

"No," he denied sharply.

"Why not?" She dared hotly. "Because I'm a woman?"

"No," he breathed again, unwilling to expand upon it with a reasonable and true explanation. "But I am not leaving here without you."

She laughed. "Then you won't leave at all." And with that she took a rushed step forward and pivoted on a foot to swipe the other across his face.

Mark stumbled backward. He remained on his feet only because his back struck a wall before he could fall. Through the pain of what was obviously a broken cheek he stared back at her, unwilling to move, unwilling to fight back.

"Princess, can't you see it," he tried softly. "Can't you see who he is?"

She drove her fists into his stomach and kneed him in the top of his thigh when he stumbled again.

Still he refused to fight back. "He's playing you, Princess. Don't you hear it in his voice? Aren't you listening to what he's saying?"

She clutched fistfuls of his hair and slammed it backward against the wall before she drove her knee into his cheek.

He let out a sharp cry and fell hard onto the floor. He tried to pull himself up, but only managed to make it to his knees before her foot slammed into his belly to roll him onto his back. He choked out a sob and a groan of agony as she grabbed his hair with one tight fist to drag him to a kneel. Through his bangs he saw the flurry of familiar colours in battle across the room. He could only breathe out the name of his second in command, but it seemed enough to get Jason's attention.

"Shit. Mark!" He bellowed in horror as he spun and abandoned the fight to tear the Swan off her prey. "Princess, what the hell?"

Her eyes were so wide that no part of her irises were hidden by either lashes or eye lids. Her head tilted with such fascination at the wounded man in her hold that Mark had no doubt in his mind she was out of her own body. He blinked over soggy lashes and let his body shudder. "Jason, no," he croaked as the Condor approached, ready to tear the Swan off Mark. "Don't hurt her."

Jason skidded to a halt and half danced from foot to foot. "Skipper, she's going to kill you."

"Yes," Princess breathed as she swiftly splayed her hand to release Mark's hair and then backhanded him across the face. "I think I just might."

Jason watched in absolute horror as she shoved Mark backward and leapt onto his chest to dig a knee into his throat. The condor shook his head and shifted in to drag her off him. "Screw it, man. I'm not going to sit back and watch you die."

Mark rolled himself out from under Princess and did a badly performed commando crawl closer to his second. "Jason, don't lay a hand on her, or I will kill you." He arched his back and yelled as he felt the sting of her knee driving into his calf. He didn't know if it was enough to break a bone, but the pain certainly felt like it. His hand flailed toward Jason in a desperate request for him to pull him free of the attack.

As Jason reached out for him, however, Princess took another hold of his hair and hauled him to his feet. She threw him into the wall and crushed herself against him, hands against his throat, chest against chest, hips against hips. She pushed her knee in between his legs and pressed it uncomfortably hard into his groin.

He couldn't fight the sting of tears that rolled down his cheeks at her vacant, yet fascinated stare. It was easier to ignore the blinding pain across the rest of his body than it was to shield himself from the emotional sting. His body shook as her fingers tightened around his throat.

She licked her lips and breathed calmly into his face as she watched it redden. "You are handsome," she admitted softly. "What a shame we couldn't all just be friends."

He felt the burn of pressure rising from her grip at his throat. He tried to swallow. His eyes implored hers to stop. He could see Jason stalk slowly toward them to save him. "Jason, no," he croaked. "Don't. She doesn't know what she's doing."

"Yes I do," she purred inside a whisper as she rubbed her nose against his. "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm protecting the one I love."

Mark felt his entire body break at her words, "I love you," he managed breathlessly. "I love you, Princess. I'll die for you to prove it."

A flash of colour breezed through her eyes at his words. She blinked and dropped her eyes to her hands. Inside a brief moment of clarity she gasped and quickly drew her hands from him. "God. What…?"

"Kill him," Zoltar demanded hotly from behind her. "He hurt you, Cheri. You must make him pay."

Her head and eyes rolled at his voice and within a heartbeat, vacancy returned to her eyes. She snarled a long breath. "Yes, lover. I will kill him."

Mark frantically shook his head and reached out to hold her face in his hands. "Please, Princess. Listen to me."

Her fists clenched against his chest. "I'm through listening."

"Princess…"

Her hands returned to Mark's throat and she clutched tight and hard at it. "Just die."

He gave in to her finally. "Okay I will die. But only…" He struggled to breathe. "But only if you swear to protect our baby."

Her eyes flared at his words. "What baby?" She hissed as she tightened her grip on his throat.

He could feel finality dawning and used the last of his strength to run his hand across her abdomen. "Ours," he choked as he raised his hand to her face and watched her face fade from his vision. "I'll watch over … you both."

He felt completely limp against her, then slipped from her hold. The sound of his body striking the ground was unheard over the deafening cry of horror from both Keyop and Jason.

"Fuck. Mark. No!"

She staggered backward and stumbled on her own feet. Jason pushed past her and dropped to his knees beside his fallen commander. "Keyop. God. Help me." He shoved desperately at the man on the ground.

She was deaf and half blind to the scene in front of her. As though drunk she swayed on her feet, close to retching. She barely registered the panic of a usually stoic Condor.

"Mark, you can't die, man."

There was a small ping inside her head; a pop that drew her head down to her chest. She clutched at her hair as the ping became an ache, and then a stab. A cry rose from inside her belly that erupted out of her mouth into a scream.

She didn't feel the frightened touch of G-Force's youngest as the pain in her head shot down her spine and dropped her to her knees. She clutched tightly at her hair as she fell forward face first onto the beer-stained carpet.

And her world went completely black.


	14. Chapter 14

As she finally stirred, Princess allowed her eyes to roll underneath her eyelids. Something about the mild ache in her head warned her not to be too eager to flash open her eyes. The sterile smell of her surroundings alerted her that there was likely a very bright fluorescent light above her so to allow a fast flash of white light to blind her would likely aggravate her already thumping head.

She slapped her dry tongue up along an equally dry top of her mouth and gave a wince of confusion and annoyance.

_Where the hell was she?_

She listened hard at the ambient sounds around her for confirmation of location. There was a steady beep of a familiar high-tech gadget to her left – an Electrocardiograph machine. Over the top of that sound came a sound much like an intake of air that coincided with a tightening of something around her upper arm. There began a steady ticking sound that seemed to release the pressure around her arm incrementally in time with each tick, then a beep, and total release.

Listening harder, she detected the familiar twang of a Southern US accent owned by one of the nurses at Centre Neptune. It dawned that she was probably on a gurney in the medical wing of the Neptune facility. A quick wriggle into an uncomfortably firm mattress, and the rustle of over-starched sheets confirmed this assessment.

…But for the life of her she could not understand why she would have been there. She couldn't remember any recent mission or injury.

Jill's hushed voice conversing with Jason in a tone so low she couldn't make out more than one or two words finally brought her from her own world of question, and she fluttered open her eyes. At the blinding sudden hit of light, she drew her forearm over her eyes.

"Someone cut the lights, please," she whined only to alert anyone present that she was awake.

Jill was the first to respond. She skittered past Jason and pressed both of her hands lightly onto Princess' forearm. "Oh, Cess, you're awake."

"And slightly confused," she admitted as she slowly drew her arm from her face. She frowned when she realized there was a tube attached to it that led to an intravenous dosage machine. "What happened?"

Jason hadn't shifted from the foot of the bed. He stood in what looked to Princess like annoyance. His face was set in a scowl, his head low, and his arms were crossed tight at his chest. His voice was affirmation that he was pissed off when he finally spoke.

"You don't remember."

Princess didn't know if it was a question or a statement. She angled her head innocently to one side and shrugged. "No, I don't, Jason. The last thing I remember is…" she pursed her lips and thought back. She rolled her head to look at Jill. "You took me to a party, right?

Jill's eyes shot up to Jason, who merely grunted an answer full of disbelief. "That was almost a week ago, Princess."

Princess' eyes shot wide. "A week?"

Jill petted her arm. "Don't stress yourself trying to remember, Princess. Just rest, okay?"

Princess shook her head and pressed her hands into the mattress to push herself into a seat. "I've obviously been asleep for a week," she grunted. "I'm rested enough."

"Actually,' Jason growled. "You've been here for only a few hours."

"Only a few …?" Princess finally really registered that Jason was not too happy with her. She frowned at him. "Why are you mad at me, Jason?"

Jill cooed softly. "He's not mad at you, Cess. Just relax, okay?"

Princess angled her head to one side and suspiciously. "No. I know when Jason's mad, Jill." She inhaled a hard breath. "Tell me what I've done, Jase."

His eyes steeled on hers. "Do you want a list?"

Her eyes flared wide. "What did I do?"

"Mark," He breathed softly before he cleared his throat and looked away from her.

The sadness in his tone practically stopped her heart. She pushed her fist into her chest as though to press out the ache of panic that something may have happened to him. "What about him?"

"He was my best friend," he said softly as he thumbed moisture from his eye. "My best-damn-friend."

Panic ruled and she began to pant slightly. "Was?" Her head flicked in between Jill and Jason. "Was?" She leaned forward to attempt to crawl to the foot of the bed toward Jason. "My God, what happened?"

Jill frowned, but attempted to coax Princess back into the bed. "Its okay, Princess. Please just lie back down." She shot a glare at Jason. "The doctor said not to upset her, Jason. Shit, do you ever listen to anyone?"

Princess ignored the plea of her best friend and tugged against the tube in her wrist. "Jason, what happened to Mark? Tell me he's okay, please?"

Jill actually climbed on to the bed to press Princess back into the pillows. "Don't worry, 'Cess. Mark's good. He's okay. We really just need you to take it easy right now."

Princess panted close to hyperventilation as her eyes flicked their focus between both Jill's eyes. "He's okay? Promise me that, Jill."

"Don't worry about him, he's okay."

Jason's voice growled from the foot of the bed. "And you call us liars."

Jill shot a glare up at him. "Why don't you just leave, Jason. Shit. She doesn't need to hear about it she needs to rest."

He released his arms from their fold and angrily grasped at the aluminium bar over the end of the bed. "She needs to know what she did, Jill. I lost my best friend today because of her."

"And you want to lose his kid too, Jason? " She pointed back at Princess with her whole hand. "How do you think Mark would feel if you stressed her out so much she lost his baby? As his best friend you should be making sure that doesn't happen." She kept her eyes on Jason as she turned her face back to Princess. "And besides, you didn't…"

"Baby?" Princess interrupted meekly. "I'm pregnant?"

Jill smoothed her hand over Princess' hair and gave her a gentle smile. "Twelve weeks, kiddo. In a little over six months you're going to be a mommy." She gave a rub at Princess' abdomen. "Mark's little pride and joy growing right in here."

Princess dropped her eyes to her belly and then let her gaze drag down the mattress toward Jason's belt. She kept her gaze locked on the worn leather and rocked slowly backward and forward. "But how?"

Jill softly giggled. "I don't think I have to explain _that_ to you."

Princess looked up at her with wide and terrified eyes. "No. Mark and I were so careful." She clenched her eyes tight enough that tears spilled and cascaded down her cheeks. "Please tell me what happened to him."

"You did," Jason growled.

Jill gasped. "Jason. Stop. Just leave it."

"No."

Princess clutched Jill's hand tightly. "No. I need to know, Jill. If I sit here and make my own assumptions and worry about it, it will be worse for our baby than if I know for sure." She rubbed at her abdomen. "If this is all I have left of him…" She paused, blinked slowly, and then looked up at Jason. "What did I do, Jason?"

The anger inside him was hot, but his empathy toward her was just as fierce. As the two emotions waged a war against each other, he took a hard swallow and raised his eyes to hers. "You attacked him," he breathed softly.

She immediately brought both hands to her mouth and swallowed her own breath. "No. I couldn't have."

He angled his head to one side. "You did, Princess. You attacked him and there was nothing any of us could do to stop you."

She shook her head. "There has to be a mistake. I would never hurt him, or any of you." She looked to Jill as though to beg her to tell her Jason was lying. "I couldn't hurt him, Jill."

Jill merely pursed her lips to shush her and nodded. "It's okay, Princess."

Princess felt a shake inside her chest and finally opened her movements to shake her entire body in time with her head. "No. I couldn't have taken him on and beaten him." She looked up at Jason. "There's a mistake, there has to be. I _know_ I would never attack him, and even if I did he is far stronger than I am. He could take me down without a second thought."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "He couldn't."

"Why not?" She asked incredulously.

Jason finally approached her. He pressed his fists into the mattress and looked hotly at her. "He couldn't bring himself to hurt you. With the way you were, the only way he could have stopped you was by doing you harm." He took a breath. "He would rather die than see you hurt and so he just took it. Every hit, every kick, every strike of that damn weapon of yours. He braced himself and took it all, all the while trying to talk you out of it." He angled his head and squeezed his eyes shut at the memory. "You wanted to kill him."

She grasped Jason's hands and implored him to look at her. "Jason, you know that's not true. I love him. I would give my soul to him. Why would I want to hurt him?"

He shook his head and looked closely at her. He could read the absolute terror and confusion in her eyes. She truly had no idea about what had happened. Confusion and terror parted into utter sorrow and he found himself clutching desperately at her as his head dropped onto her thighs. Without a breath or word he began to sob.

Princess held his head and looked back sadly at Jill. "Is he really gone?"

Jill slowly shook her head. "He's still hanging on, Princess, but only barely. The doctors don't think he'll make it through the night."

Her eyes widened and she immediately struggled away from Jason. "Take me to him." She slid off the side of the bed and winced at the cold tile on her naked feet. She was held back by the monitoring wires and tugged angrily to free herself of them. Immediately the room was alight with alarms.

Jill backed up quickly against a curtain wall and held her hands out in front of her. "No. Princess. You just need to settle down and …"

"I have to see him!"

A flurry of nurses rushed the room and immediately surrounded her. The southern accent she'd heard earlier urged her to get back in to bed. "Come on Swan. We need you to get back into your bed. Doctor's orders."

She brushed the nurse off her. "Let me see Mark."

"No, Sweetie. You need your rest. We'll look after Mark, you look after you and your little one."

Jason rose from the edge of the bed and wiped his eyes with the back of his fist. He cursed under his breath and clutched at the curtain. "Someone hold on to her, will you?"

Princess immediately shot a hot glare toward him. "Jason. I want…" Her words caught in her throat as he ripped the curtain back hard to reveal Mark on a gurney beside hers. "There. There he is."

Her legs immediately collapsed underneath her.

He lay on the bed as though on a morgue slab. His face stared straight up to the ceiling, his entire body was rigid and stretched as he lay on his back with his hands and arms intentionally positioned either side of his hips. The light white sheet that covered him was set tight and tucked in between the mattress and the bed frame and left very little to the imagination of anyone attending to him. There was no hospital gown on his body. All they had left on him to provide any dignity at all was a white pair of Hugo Boss boxer briefs, the lines of which were clearly visible through the almost transparent sheet.

She used two nurses to haul herself on weak legs toward the bed, grabbing at one and then the other to pull her heavy body across the floor.

For a long moment she clutched at the bed frame with white knuckles and stared at his face. Purple, swollen, black and blue, he was barely recognizable. There was a white bandage around his forehead that had obviously been hastily applied. She could see tufts of his auburn hair peeking through the spaces between the wrap.

With a shaking hand she swept her fingertips lightly along the edge of the bandage. She winced that he didn't shift at her touch. His skin was cool, clammy. If it hadn't been for the intermittent fogging of the clear plastic oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth, she'd truly have believed that Jason was right – and Mark was dead.

"Did I do this?" She whispered in disbelief.

Jason slowly slid his arms around her from behind and dropped his chin onto her shoulder. It was a move that served to both hold her steady and to assure her that even though he was upset, he still loved her. "You weren't yourself, Princess."

She coughed out a small couple of weeping sobs and stooped down to pull Mark's hand to her chest. "Will he pull through?"

"The doctors don't think so."

She nodded and kissed Mark's hand before she ran it over her face. "Who is responsible, then, if I'm not?"

"Zoltar," he said simply. He felt her stiffen in his hold and tightened his embrace. "He drugged you."

"How?" She asked as she angled her head to the side to look at Jason over her shoulder. "How could he do that? I don't remember anything about being captured by Spectra."

"You weren't." He let his hand brush protectively across her abdomen. "Princess, it's a long and twisted tale of hell and deceit. But just know that whoever did that to Mark, wasn't you."

"If you believe that, then why were you so mad at me?"

"I needed someone to blame."

She shuddered and set Mark's hand back neatly on the mattress. "We need to go after him, Jason. We have to make him pay for this."

"Tiny, Keyop and I will make sure of it."

She spun to face him and found herself tightly embraced inside the Condor's grip. Her nose was almost against his. "Don't forget me, Jason. I want revenge for this too."

Jason lightly stooped and slid an arm under her backside to lift her gently onto the mattress beside Mark. "In your condition you're not doing anything. With Mark gone that baby becomes my greatest mission in life – I won't let anything happen to either of you."

"He's still here," she whispered. "Don't speak as though he's dead."

Jason looked at his best friend and inhaled a deep and sorrowful breath before he lowered his head. "Then you need to stay with him. Give the Skipper a reason to hang around."

She blinked at him as he pulled back from her. "But will he forgive…"

Jason pressed his finger to her lips and nodded. "That man loves you. He knows that the monster who attacked him wasn't you. If he knows you're here…" He looked up at Mark's face. "Then it might be enough, you know, to bring him home."


	15. Chapter 15

Ahhh Distracted thy name is GroovyKat. I've been a busy little bee over the past several weeks, so I do apologise to anyone reading this monstrosity for the delay in update. Real life came 'a' knockin, and I had to answer it's call. It's still hanging around much like an unwelcome in-law, but I snuck in a little me time to write a little sumthin'…

Enjoy … ?

Security Chief Anderson and his lead medical technician were pouring over some intelligence information in Anderson's office when President Kane burst through the doors huffing and puffing in panic. Anderson's assistant Suzanna timidly stood at the door with an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he insisted."

Anderson looked up at his secretary and gave her a nod. "That's okay, Suzanna. I should have warned you to expect him." He looked to the President and let out an annoyed breath. "Is there something I can help you with, Sir?"

Kane still breathed in pants and so his voice was somewhat choked when he answered. "What is this I hear about the Commander being killed?"

Anderson rolled his eyes and looked back down at a laptop in front of he and the doctor. "He's not dead, Sir."

"Well not yet, Anderson. But I hear it's not that far off being true."

"I see the word has gotten out rather swiftly," He replied with almost a groan. "That diagnosis was only released a little short of half an hour ago."

Kane pressed his fists into the desk and gave a firm nod. "This entire facility is buzzing with the news. I dare say it will be in only a few minutes that the press get hold of the information."

"Yes," Anderson muttered dryly. "I image it will be sooner rather than later."

Kane was somewhat shocked that Anderson was so cool about it. "Well, I hope you have a reasonable plan for how to handle this. I'd hazard a guess that once Spectra hears the news we'll have an almost immediate attack upon one of our cities."

"I'm not too concerned," Anderson muttered inside a sigh.

"Well you should be, Anderson. You're two men down. An attack right now would devastate the population." The raked his hand through what little hair he had left on his head. "I can't believe we've lost the Commander."

"Oh Mark's going to be fine," Anderson barked in impatience.

"Excuse me?"

Anderson's eyes still didn't rise over the monitor of the laptop. "I said he'll be fine. Princess is a vicious girl when she wants to be, but she is not a killer."

Kane's eyes narrowed as though insulted. "Then what is it she does on a mission basis, John? Look pretty in a short skirt and boots?"

Anderson's eyes finally rose above the lean of the laptop monitor to look upon the Federation leader with contempt. Rather than dignify the question with an answer or comment, he made do with a displeased huff. "The commander is in a drug controlled coma, Kane. Besides some bruises, a broken cheek and rib, the boy is fine. He'll wake with a sore throat, face and chest, but he'll wake and be ready to fight when we deem it necessary to rouse him."

Kane's brow flicked on one side. "If he is so fine, then why are the rumours abounding and the lad in a coma to begin with?"

Anderson's eyes flicked back down to the monitor. "For a myriad of reasons, Sir."

"None to do with injury?"

Anderson shook his head. "The boy has been through worse and gotten up to keep going." He cleared his throat and closed the laptop. "We hope that by perpetuating the rumour of the Commander's death, that we may draw Zoltar out of hiding."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I wish I was," he droned in what sounded like long suffering pain. "Vice President Harper and his tactical departments have had this plan in mind for quite some time. When Mark fell at Princess' hand, the time seemed quite perfect." He slowly stood and flicked one side of his jacket to thrust a hand deep inside his pant pocket. "Zoltar apparently watched Princess attack the commander and as such will easily believe that he's dead." He cleared his throat. "God only knows when I first saw the boy I pretty much believed it myself."

"The paramedics reported no vitals, Anderson."

The chief gave a nod. "Indeed, Mark showed no discernible vital signs, but neither did Princess." He caught a stunned look from the President and quickly continued before the large man could comment. "It's a last-resort safety measure design on the chip. In the event of manual strangulation or slow physical attempts to kill one of the G-Force team, the implant will shut their systems down thereby making them appear dead to the assailant."

"That's a rather dangerous feature wouldn't you say?"

"That's why it's a last ditch save, Kane. It gives them a final chance to get out." He belatedly waved a dismissive hand. "Zoltar isn't known for beating a dead horse with a stick. If he thinks one of them is dead, he won't stick around to double-check. He'll just leave them."

"Which you're assuming he did in this case?"

"Keyop reported that in his account of the mission." He toyed with a pen in his pocket. "Jason and Tiny were tending to both Princess and Mark with Keyop running in between. The young lad caught sight of Zoltar leaving…"

"But did nothing to stop it?"

Anderson's eyes shot upward. "He had more important tasks at hand."

"Moreso than securing and detaining a wanted criminal?" He caught a glare. "Jason and Tiny had the other two covered, Keyop should have gone after Zoltar – That's his job."

"Actually," Anderson growled back, "it isn't Keyop's job to detain anyone. None of the team are required to do anything beyond any mission parameters that are set out prior to any assignment. In this instance the instruction was to bring in Princess, hopefully before she killed Mark. Keyop's' primary directive in this case was to prevent further injury to the fallen and protect the carers – in this case Jason and Tiny."

"Meanwhile Zoltar runs off free to attack again another day. Anderson, we could have been done with all this."

"You make the conclusion to this whole thing seem so easy." Anderson strode toward a whiteboard and gave a short grunt as he stooped and pulled at the bottom to flip it to a new side. "If you think that Zoltar is the only one responsible for the attacks on the planets within our Galaxy, then you are sorely mistaken. He is only a small part of a much larger threat."

Kane's eyes widened at the images of expansive and active bases scattered across the board. Each photograph had notes on the locations and affiliations of the occupants as well as intricate diagnostic breakdowns on the supposed caliber and lethality of each weapon sighted.

He strode slowly toward the board and snatched a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe at his balding brow. "What is this?"

"This," Anderson commented dryly, " is two years of research by the Swan, Swallow and our reconnaissance teams. You may think that Spectra is simply a rogue planet among an entire Federation, but I can assure you they do not act alone." He slapped the board with the back of his hand. "These bases are operating within several different Federation Zones on planets that have been slowly acting somewhat erratic in their application of new laws and mandates." He pointed to another image that was grainy and dark, with no real discernable activity on it. "This is Spectra – a dead planet. There are no resources and virtually no populous left on it. For Zoltar to continually be producing the machines he hits our cities with, he needs help – and a lot of it."

Kane rubbed at his chin. "Well if he has the money, Anderson…"

The Chief gave a facetious laugh. "Money? Sir, his money is useless on any planet other than his own. Trading between planets is not financial, it is for technology and resources." He pointed again at the photograph. "Spectra has nothing to offer, nothing. In order for him to be directing armies and creating such destruction he needs allies with a similar goal. Earth is the base for the Federation and all of its heads. Destroy the Earth and the whole alliance of Friendly Planets will crumble."

Kane looked the board over for a long moment. "Why is this only being presented to me now?"

"Because we didn't want to give you incomplete intelligence. I know your mind, Zak, I know exactly what you'll want when we present these findings to you."

Kane actually gave a smirk. "Then tell me what I want, John. Prove to me your psychic brilliance…"

Anderson read the tease and actually found himself able to smirk somewhat. "You'll want names and dossiers on all suspected participating worlds, personnel and Federation ranking."

"Which, I take it, you don't have yet?"

Anderson shook his head. "Before the Swan took on her new role as team rebel without a cause, she was working alongside 7-Zark-7 to compile the names."

Kane's attention shot back to the quandary that had brought him to the office to begin with. "Speaking of. What happened to the girl to put her in such a state," he raised his hand as Anderson's mouth opened. "And I will not buy pregnancy as an excuse, John, so don't try that one on me."

"She and the Commander ended their relationship."

Kane cleared his throat at the calm delivery of the seven-word explanation. "Obviously the young lady wasn't ready to end it, and it's clear the Commander wasn't either."

"And you know this how?"

Kane slid his hand into his pocket and raised his eyes to the ceiling in an adult-style roll of the eyes. "She rebelled and he let her beat him half to death without lifting a hair in his own defense. It isn't exactly rocket-science, John. Neither of the two of them was ready to part ways. How much of a hand in their separation did you have?"

"I recommended it to Mark for the sake of the team."

"Recommended, or ordered?" He caught the hiccup in Anderson's eyes and raised his hand as though to tell him he wasn't interested in the answer. "A brilliant scientist you may be, but when it comes to personal stuff you really have no clue, do you?"

Anderson blinked hard, but said nothing.

So Kane continued. "I'm tempted to put you on Administrative leave to force you to take your eyes out of the microscope for a while." He paced in a manner full of lecture. "This whole facility has been watching the budding romance between the two of them since we moved the center here a year ago." He paused long enough to give Anderson a short glare. "They were happy, we were happy, missions were won, and the battle of Commander versus tacticians was gone." He pressed his hands onto his hips and puffed his chest out to enlarge his frame to almost double its size. "The girl cut off his strings and pulled the rod from that boy's ass. He became a man the second he took her to his bed, and we were damn well happy about that."

"But it unbalances the team," he argued somewhat meekly. "I had to put an end to it before it got too far."

Kane's brows rose and he lowered his head to gaze through them. "Then you should have separated them the moment they met."

"What …?"

"Oh come on. You have to be blind not to see it, John. Mark has been her little boyfriend since she was ten." He swept his hand through the air as though to indicate an invisible crowd. "We all saw it. We all discussed it numerous times throughout the years. Rather than admonishing the pairing, we did everything in our power to ensure it happened." He smirked conspiratorially. "Why do you think the pairings were set as they were?"

Anderson blinked, but held off coughing. "You can't be serious."

"G-Force have done nothing but excel since those two paired both in battle and then in bed."

"And now one part of that coupling is pregnant and therefore unable to continue her duties out in the field," Anderson argued in a voice that appeared to hold more than a hint of victory. "Because of that very pairing we lost a member. Had we enforced the mandate of no intra-Federation relationships, she would not have fallen into this state and I'd have a fully operational team."

"And you would have had Mark and Jason – especially Mark – laying in to any man who dared approach young Princess for a date." He shook his head in disgust. "The Commander would probably be in jail for assault."

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Highly probable," he countered with a grunt. "I know that boy as well as you do. He's a selfish ass just like his father was. Noone touches what he believes to be his, and that girl is more his than even that jet or his command. Jealousy is a far greater distraction than a man who is thinking of what position he wants to try with her when he gets her back to Earth, wouldn't you say?"

Anderson's whole face fell in to shock, especially at the single huffed laugh from the medical technician still in the office. He glared at the tech, but directed his words at Kane. "That's crude."

"But true, and you know it." His voice softened into one of understanding. "Look, John. I know you want these kids to be just little robots that do as you say and have no feeling outside the job, but you have to understand that they aren't. They've formed a tight family around you whether you like it or not, and you need to give them the freedom to live it out and make their mistakes or pleasures. They are a damn good unit for it."

Anderson had to let out a breath and nod in agreement. "I know." He took a seat on the edge of his desk. "I know."

"Then I am to expect you will encourage them to reconcile?"

Anderson snorted. "With her pregnancy, there's no way Mark will disallow that. He'd resign before he'd let me separate them again."

"No," Kane corrected darkly. "You would resign before he does."

Anderson's eyes shot wide. He knew he was considered secondary to the project than any of the team were, but was still surprised to hear the implication roll so easily out of Kane's mouth. "Understood. When we wake him…"

"About that," Kane interrupted shortly. "You said there were reasons beyond the new directive from tactical that has you holding the Commander in his current state."

Anderson gave a short nod. "You know the boy well, but I know him a little better." He rolled his neck on his head as if stretching in discomfort. "With all that's happened, I don't trust him to lie back quietly and not go after Zoltar. He will be on his communicator to Jason concocting some ingenious plan of destruction before he's wiped the sleep from his eyes."

Kane gave a nonchalant shrug. "Ramped up on revenge and anger, I can't see how it would be a bad thing."

Anderson's eyes rose darkly. "I take it you didn't read the mission analysis reports immediately succeeding the death of his father. Zak, he was not rational, nor a good soldier during that time. He put his team in unnecessary danger and duress."

Kane pursed his lips to give a short nod. "Yes. I suppose you're right. How long do you think we'll keep him like this?"

Anderson shrugged. "We're taking it hour by hour. We figure 24 hours will be more than enough time to help him heal and to make sure the word gets out."

"Meanwhile, you have a pregnant woman killing herself over the thought that she may have murdered him." He waved a finger of disapproval. "You need to tell her otherwise. If she miscarries through the worry, you'll have the both of them leaving the team and probably defecting to Spectra out of sheer spite." He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder. "Right after they have you drawn and quartered."


End file.
